Roads
by J.A. Carlton
Summary: Desperate to ease his brother's suffering, Dean will set the youngest Winchester adrift in a world of possibilities and turn away. It's the hardest thing he'll ever do, or so he thinks as he is forced to explore his own choices.
1. Chapter 1

Roads – SN fic. Chpt 1.

by: sifi

Disclaimer – Sadly... still applies.

Love - Gladly still applies.

--

_...something's wrong...wake up..._ she heard and felt her eyes come open.

"No..." she whispered sitting up, gliding across the room, careful not to wake Dean. "Sam..." she said softly, her hands wrapped around his.

They wrapped around his hand, and the smoke black .9mm that trembled beneath his chin while streams shimmered in ribbons down his cheeks and his blue-green eyes begged deep into hers.

_He doesn't want to feel this... he can't feel this hurt anymore... Oh God help me help him... for both of them!_ she felt a small whispered plea in her mind, careful not to think too loudly lest the one person who would be damaged beyond repair be somehow alerted to something wrong.

"Please..." he mouthed more than spoke, his arm giving way, relinquishing the weapon to her as his body buckled, sliding from the bed, onto his knees on the floor before her, his face fell into his hands and his shoulders shook.

"I gotcha sweetie... s'gonna be okay..." she assured him, her hands pulling him close, pressing his head into the crook of her neck and shoulder, her fingers smoothing his sweat soaked hair while the other hand stroked his silently hitching back.

"It hurts... oh God it hurts!" he whispered nearly gagging on it, gasping for breath against the agony lancing through him from more directions than he knew existed, "...please... just... stop it..." he begged, the fight gone from him as he clutched his arms around her, pulled her to him and let himself quake in her embrace.

--

She bent his long legs and tucked them under the blanket, the rhythm of his deep breathing and light snore never changing as she maneuvered him until she thought he looked comfortable and wouldn't 'crick' up over night.

Dean rolled out of bed, grabbed Sam's gun from the floor where Laura had swept it to the side, and unloaded it before tucking it into his bag and joining her at the table, his hand reaching shakily for hers, his expression one of bewildered crumbling innocence.

He swallowed hard and opened a beer for both of them then swept his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tears she cried for his brother.

"I didn't... he can't... he didn't... how?... please... how can we help him?" he finally wrapped his lips around a question.

"When did you wake up?" she whispered, wondering just what new injury might scar his already battered psyche. _If we knew... if YOU knew how the pieces fit... it might not hurt so much... if I knew... I'd tell you... _

"I felt you get out of bed..." he looked at his brother sleeping through the effects of too much alcohol, too much pain and suffering, too much... everything over the last couple weeks in particular, "I don't understand... but I do..." he muttered around the bottle.

"I could try to take some of the pain away... he might let me..." she suggested squeezing his hand then pressing his fingers to her lips.

He looked from his girl to his brother and shook his head, "What so you can get all angstified and pop a cap in your own crown? Yeah I don't think so... you got enough going on right now that you're not telling me about... I can't keep the both of you safe if YOU start tail-spinning too..." he admonished quietly then set his bottle down and set his gaze hard and fast on her, "... which brings me to... what the HELL is up with you anyway?... you've been pushing and pushing non-stop since this whole cult thing went down, are you trying to kill yourself too?!"

"This isn't about me sweetie..."

"Oh no... NO, you don't get to do that... not here, not now... uh uh..." he challenged shaking his head.

"It's just survivors' remorse... I'll get past it in time, don't worry," she assured him.

"Survivors' remorse... over what? What's to be remorseful about? Survival isn't something to mourn it's something to celebrate!" he insisted quietly, ever mindful of his sleeping Sam.

Laura felt her heart crack and gasped for breath, unable to stop the flood of images that scrolled constantly through her mind's eye. "You didn't see... you didn't watch... or stand by helpless... hiding... cringing like terrified animal trapped in its den while its kin are ripped to pieces, torn apart by rabid hungry predators driven mad by possession... perverted against their very nature and used for arbitrary destruction!" she gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and liquid as they shifted from Dean's penetrating emerald gaze to his sleeping baby brother.

She shook her head backing against the wall, her hand still over her mouth, her eyes still impossibly wide as Dean looked from her to Sam and back again, her words seeking meaning in his mind. _What? What?... there's... something... "I think John was wrong... I don't think they're JUST demons..." that's what she said before... "I think it's coming..." "I think it was a field exercise..." _he recalled their conversation not long after her return from the sidhe universe, what she'd seen and what she feared.

"No..." he shook his head rising to his feet, stalking toward where she stood, her back pressed against the dark paneling of the room, "Not Sam... you're not thinking..." _"The demon has plans for me... and for children LIKE me..." Demonic foot-soldiers, isn't that what Gordon called 'em? "I think he's a fulcrum... a pivot point... corruption is the key..." isn't that just another word for perversion? _he thought grasping her shoulders and pressing her into the wall, "No..."

"I DON'T know Dean... I wish to God I did!" she whispered, her head dropping forward, her hands on his hips as he pulled her against his chest, his head shaking back and forth.

"No... I won't let it happen! Do you understand me? I WILL NOT let it happen!" he insisted nearly crushing her to him.

"I know..." she nodded against his chest, "But we have to find a way to open his eyes to the _possibilities_, he has to be able to _see_ other paths before he can choose one..."

He slipped his finger under her chin and tilted her head back, the layers of pain he hadn't been able to see before were now made visible, he was starting to get his 'game eyes' and what he was able to glimpse so far was mind boggling.

"I love you," he said.

--

"Do you trust this plan?" she asked looking from Dean to Dr. H. Nabarre, the man who'd cared for them all during their recovery from the effects of their captivity at the hands of Alana's cult. The very same man she'd used her influence to contact, and to coerce into their motel room in the wee hours of the night with a veritable pharmacopeia at his fingertips.

"I trust _you_...with my life," Dean nodded.

"With Sam's life?" she asked expecting a moment's hesitation she was surprised by the fullness of his eye contact and the solemnity of his nod.

She looked at the Dr, "Do it."

Dr. Nabarre tapped out the syringe and dosed the youngest Winchester, then handed a second syringe to Laura, "You know...?" he asked.

She nodded, tossed the syringe into a toothbrush case and put it into her bag, "You won't remember this, all you know about us is that we all left after a full recovery."

"Okay," he nodded picking up his bag and heading out the door, "Have a safe trip," he called softly with a wave.

"Get the car door..." Dean instructed hoisting Sam's unconsciousness half over his shoulder.

"You're gonna lose him..." Laura chuckled racing to Sam's left and helping to hold him up.

They trundled him out into the parking lot where Dean held him steady against the car while she opened the doors and knelt in the back seat guiding his head and shoulders safely into the vehicle.

"Good thing he likes to sleep with his knees in his chest cause man... short as I am I'd be kinked all to hell..." she shook her head smiling wryly as they returned quickly to the room to retrieve their bags.

"You're kinky anyway..." Dean smirked taking a last glance around the room then satisfied, closed the door.

"This from you?" she shook her head striding side by side with him back to the car.

--

"I'm not sure I like this..." he muttered as asphalt slithered out behind them. His eyes flicked to his little brother, the baby he'd raised and protected for the whole of his life.

"Me neither... but I don't know what else to do... this isn't something he can sit in an office and work through with some shrink, that other guy tried it and it got him hunted. Sam's already in danger from other hunters who don't know or won't care that things are..."

"I know, I know...but what if he sees things that are worse? What if he sees himself as some sort of demonic demigod?" he asked chewing on his lower lip.

She shook her head feeling somehow what he was really asking, _"what if he sees himself as some sort of demonic demigod... and what if he likes it?"_ yet she couldn't bear to voice the fear for him. She couldn't bear to rupture the membrane around that question that might permit it to become part of their reality. _Keep it in its bubble... where it belongs... God what are we doing?_ Instead, in full accordance with her nature, she clung to whatever little evidence and empirical data belonged to the worlds the three of them straddled. "I don't know... but from what you described to me... those spokes, those tendrils... those threads of possibility... they were individual, tailored to the individual they were tethered to...so at the far end of one of those threads he might very well be and see himself as a demonic demigod... but we just have to hope that those possibilities are the fewest outcomes of the choices he can make..." she turned her head, her eyes looking into the bright green of his, "Maybe we shouldn't do this..."

"I wish I knew how to fix this... I didn't know he was in so much pain... how could I not know? I'm his brother damnit!" Dean growled punching the steering wheel, "how could I NOT know!?"

"He didn't want to hurt you sweetie... he didn't want to burden you..."

"He's _not_ a burden he's my _brother_!" he snarled looking into the back seat through the mirror once again, "My stupid, sensitive..." he stopped, took a shaky breath then returned his focus to the road before them as a couple droplets released themselves from his eyes, "... my brother...MINE..." he nodded.

In the back seat of the impala Sam sighed, his breathing light and for the first time in days the air around him lost the flavor of stifled desperation. The thorough effects of chemistry in his body giving the young man a moment's peace, closing a door on that mass of swirling black gray otherworldly entities that had found the most delicious never ending buffet of anguish within the young hunter.

Above the impala, they raced to keep up, hopeful, wishing, needing to feed but unable now that the young one was closed off to them. The other two had done something and the creatures were not happy about it.

--

They chased darkness, heading Westward in a strange but companionable silence fractured only by the occasional navigational clue or direction. Music didn't stroke the air, nor did conversation. Man and woman lost in thought, contemplating scenarios they would never see. It was the end result they cared for, to ease the pain, to raise off of his shoulders that titanic sense of responsibility for the welfare of the world. To furnish the young man in the backseat with a renewed sense of hope these last few weeks had done their best to rape from him.

A flicker of light drew her attention, startling her halfway round in her seat to stare out the window, a needle stick of pressure sunk deep into the muscle of her shoulder, right at the base of her neck drawing her hand reflexively to the spot.

"What?" Dean asked, his brows furrowing as he wondered what was going to happen next and if what they were about to do to his baby brother was the right thing. _I'll be right there with you Sammy... don't you worry about it... I won't leave you... I won't. _

"Felt like a bite or something..." she shrugged scratching the spot until a small welt made itself seen.

"Probably a skeeter..." he smiled tightly.

"Yeah...How much longer?" she asked after another few minutes of silence.

"Another hour or so... I just hope she'll help..." Dean shook his head.

"She has to... it's her world too..."

Dean nodded in his typical yes/no fashion. Nothing was certain, they were moving quickly into uncharted territory, yet again, only this time they were about to cast someone they loved adrift without so much as a warning or a compass.

--

"What?" Cernunnos looked into the stormy eyes of the Ancient deity at his side as they watched Dean and Laura shuttle Sam into the back seat of the impala.

"You can wait no longer to begin if you wish your humans to survive... the boy's pain has been closed to them... they will marshal and attack at the worst possible moment..." he said opening his hand once more, releasing another half dozen darting lights into the night to help banish as many of the grey Igigi from this world as possible.

"Everything isn't entirely ready to begin the process yet..." the incognito Celt protested, anything he could do to prolong starting the events rolling that would change these people he'd grown so fond of.

The look on Anunnaki's face was incredulous, "How can you not be prepared?"

"I don't want them to have to..."

"Grow? Change? Evolve?... Cernunnos!"

"Let them do this much first! They are MY charges! I will NOT force the process on them sooner than absolutely necessary!" the normally docile God of Fertility and Rebirth challenged, his eyes glowing hot copper in the night.

"Every moment you delay the inevitable weakens their final position... you of ALL beings know that!"

"They are strong, adaptable..."

"You're doing them a disservice in the end..."

The Celt turned and met the Babylonian's eyes, "Maybe... maybe not..."

Anunnaki raised his hand once more, bringing into existence two more darting flashes of light. He nodded his head in the direction of the fading red tail lights down the ribbon of black then turned to Cernunnos, "They'll keep us informed."

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks sifi.


	2. Chapter 2

Roads – chpt 2.

by: sifi.

--

"Damnit!" Dean cursed feeling the cool wet rush of water into his boot, wondering if he was going to be sporting a little shimmering silver colored fish in there.

"Dean please... let me help!" she insisted reaching out to steady him as he stumbled under the weight of his substantial little brother. "You've been carrying him for almost two miles! Please... you won't do him any good if you rack yourself out!"

"It's okay... I got him..." he panted feeling his muscles screaming, his spine bowing and his heart thumping hard, _when did you get so big dude?_ he wondered.

"Dean!" she barked grasping him by the jacket and jerking him far too easily around to face her. He felt his back bend to the side and would have toppled if she hadn't filled the space between the ground and him. "Put him down NOW..." she ordered and despite the dumbstruck look on his face, helped him lower his unconscious brother to the ground before he too sat, wondering if he'd have the strength to get up again tonight.

"If he falls on his head and cracks it open because you were too stubborn to take a breath what's that gonna serve?" she barked angrily, doubt and fear twisting in her guts, interwoven with a sense of uselessness.

"He's MY responsibility..." Dean met her eyes coldly, _Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what's good for MY boy? Huh? Who the hell do you think you are?_

He shook his head and felt reason fill the gaps between his doubts and fears, _the one who woke up... the one who sensed something was wrong and stopped him from Jackson Pollock-ing himself all over the freakin' motel room wall... the one who held him while he cried... MY brother... hurting enough to cry like that... I'm so sorry Sam... I'm sorry it wasn't me who stopped you... who helped you past it... who tucked you in... I failed you... again... forgive me Sam... please... _

"How much further?" she asked sitting across from him, scrubbing her face in her hands, wishing she could do something to help these men she loved so dearly.

"'nother mile or so..." he panted, his hand on Sam's shoulder, his eyes boring into hers. He swallowed hard leaning to the right, ripping his eyes from her and focused instead into the crystalline stream while he swept a handful of water into his mouth. "Maybe we shouldn't do this...I mean it's not too late y'know? Maybe he just needs to sleep it out y'know? We could just wait here till he wakes up... then see if he's willing to check it out, I mean if she's going to be willing to help then she'll be willing to help whether he's aware of it or not... we could do that right?" he pleaded then grabbed her eyes with his gaze once more.

"We could," she nodded. _But the impact would be lessened, he'd be aware of what the objective was and in the end he might wonder if it was all just a hallucination... which he might wonder anyway after it's all said and done... I don't KNOW... I wish I did..._

"But it might not have the same impact if he was in on it..." he sighed stretching out the kinks.

She shrugged, "I don't know..."

"You sure don't know much do you?" he muttered tersely rising to his feet and positioning Sam for another stretch of fireman carrying.

_No..._ she thought, the urge to shove him out of the way, sling Sam over her own shoulders and get them to their destination nearly overpowering. She knew she could do it. She knew she could carry the young man that far and then some if she had to, but to do so would only serve to nurture Dean's seeds of self doubt, and there was a lot more at stake here than her pride.

She helped stabilize the youngest Winchester while Dean stood up and shifted his weight until it was manageable then they started forward again bound by thick straining bands of elastic uncertainty.

By the time they reached the tree, the sun was graying the horizon and a tremor of accomplishment shook Dean's lips. He fell to his knees and allowed Laura to help lower Sam to the ground, sliding him gently from the older man's shoulders.

"How much longer is he going to be out?" he asked.

"Few more hours..." she said softly pulling her knees to her chest with one hand and brushing the hair out of Sam's eyes with the other.

"I'm sorry..." Dean half smiled grasping her hand gently.

"S'okay..." her mouth twitched, her fingers squeezed his quickly then returned to her knees.

He opened his mouth to say something but the sharp cracking pop of splintering wood stopped him, it drew their attention to the trunk of the willow that with the light of pre-dawn seemed to have grown to impressive proportions.

They watched intrigued, mystified as outlines changed and an obvious shape emerged from the bole with the sound of huge leathery leaves rustling. In moments two specks of orange fire cast its glance over the three of them, one at a time, leaving the two conscious visitors with the sense that their hearts had been stripped bare.

"Chosen..." the diminutive creature that appeared an odd mix of child, and undeveloped adult spoke, its voice the color of pan pipes played at summer solstice as it approached Dean who rose to his knees.

"My brother..." he motioned to Sam and found himself silenced by the pressure of her mouth against his, his head swam with the taste of pine and honeysuckle and consciousness threw him away.

The dryad cast its gaze on Laura who remained sitting with her knees to her chest, watching carefully, "Emissary..." she acknowledged.

"Dryad," Laura nodded keeping the orange eyes in her sight, "He needs to be aware that he HAS choices..."

The creature cocked its head to the side and motioned to Sam.

"Yeah," Laura nodded.

"He is what he is...He is chosen..." it said simply.

"Don't play semantics with me... you know what we want and what he needs... will you show him?" she asked watching the woods spirit fathom human reasoning until it seemed to understand.

"Paths move many ways..."

"I know..." Laura nodded.

"You fear his knowing..."

"We both do."

The dryad looked deep at her, its opal eyes moving through the spectrum of oranges until they turned fiery pink then alighted on Sam's prone form. Her slender legs straddled his lean hips and her torso folded gently atop his. Her arms came around his neck and her fingers twined in his hair as she pressed her mouth to his. It was a penetrative kiss that drew a sigh from him even in unconsciousness.

--

Sam felt himself blink as the world took shape around him, "How..." his voice caught in his throat and he cleared it, "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

"Just a few hours..." a soft voice he remembered from somewhere spoke on his right.

"What happened?" he asked turning his head, meeting her pale blue eyes, twining his fingers into her blonde silk.

"You had a rough night," she smiled stroking his cheek before touching his lips with hers.

"I don't remember..." he shook his head, his brows furrowed as he drew a line down the delicate angles of her face with his fingertip.

"That would probably be the after party..." she smiled.

"After party? After what Jess?" he asked and felt his eyes grow wide once the realities of his life came flooding back, "You're not real..." he thrust himself backwards until he ran out of bed and landed with a jarring 'thud', "You died almost two years ago..." he accused getting to his feet and blushing violently as he wrapped himself in a sheet.

"After the campaign of course... we won back Clifton last night Sam, because of you!" she grinned stroking the deeply dimpled cheek of the man in bed beside her, who Sam saw as he backed into the wall, was himself.

"What the hell?" he asked looking down. He was dressed in the sweats and t-shirt he'd fallen asleep in, "Dreaming..." he gasped sweeping his hand down his face, "Okay... just a dream..." he nodded gazing hard at the woman he lost but would forever hold dear in his heart.

"Clifton... the Devil's gates... we took it back?... Oh God tell me this isn't a premon...it can't be... Jess is dead... okay so it's just a dream then...Come on Sam... wake up man... this isn't right..." he tried to coax himself awake and had a flash of memory, the feel of his gun in his hand, pressing into the tender flesh under his chin, his heart shattering in on itself, "Oh God did I?... I didn't... this isn't..." _Hell? to have to stand here and look at myself with Jess and never be able to touch her again, never taste her again... yeah, that's one kind of hell..._

Shaking his head, he took another longing look at this dream version of himself with the woman his heart still wanted to marry and backed away, his stomach clenching, his lips curled back in a sneer that was too close in feeling to the snarl that wanted to tear from his throat.

He turned, his eyes quickly finding the door, his body moved toward it exorcising the agony from his heart with motion.

He stepped into the hallway of this house he didn't know, stepping over sleeping bodies that lay wherever overindulgence had left them, and made his way toward what he hoped was the kitchen.

_Who the hell ARE these people?_ he wondered looking more closely now than he had before, sighting weapons, guns, knives, swords, machetes, stained and streaked rust colored with blood. The air smelled of sweat and sex, of booze and barf and he was reminded of a couple times, before he and Jess started dating, when he'd done homework for cash. The frat boys at Stanford paid well for the rental of Sam's brains and on more occasions than he certainly remembered, Sunday mornings would find him wading through the bottle fed soldiers of society to provide the works he'd been commissioned to create.

_Almost miss those days... but what's up with this? _his eye caught a heavy line of salt behind the front door, _hunters? My God how many?... this is like a... "We took back Clifton last night..." oh man... Dean!?_

"Dean!" he shouted moving quickly now, scanning faces, body types, hair cuts, "Dean! Where are you!?" he called through the few grunts and moans that responded at least in part to his call.

"Sam... what's up?" Dean emerged in a doorway behind him, "Something wrong?"

He breathed a deep sigh wheeling around and pushing into the bedroom. He looked at the empty bed and frowned, "We need to talk...where's Laura?"

"Laura?..." the older Winchester frowned while sleepily scratching his head.

"Yeah... Laura..." he frowned at the blank look on his brothers' face, "... Finnegan... she used to be a nurse... emissary of Cernunnos... your girlfriend..."

"Dude what you been smokin? Laura Finnegan died the night Big Bad freed Morgan," Dean shook his head.

_Son of a bitch... okay that's different too..._ Sam looked curiously through the room, "How come you don't have a girl... or two... or more... in here?" Sam asked sitting on the bed while Dean swilled from a bottle of water.

"Why should I?" he asked, "What's goin' on with you Sammy?"

"Okay... I'm confused..." he scrubbed his face with his hands.

"Obviously."

"Hit me," Sam said suddenly looking into his big brothers' face.

Dean cuffed him softly.

"No I mean HIT me..." he insisted.

"What? No!" Dean frowned, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth pursed with suspicion, "What did you do?"

Sam reached down and pinched the skin of his forearm then winced, "Okay..." he sighed, "I'm gonna ask you some questions cause to be honest with you... I thought I was dreaming when I woke up with Jess but this... it feels real... even though I did see myself in bed with her..." he shook his head meeting his big brothers' curious gaze, "But you... you're a walking libido..."

"I don't wanna hear that from your mouth..." Dean protested shaking his head, "and you know me better than that... if I can't have it all I don't want any of it..."

Sam shook his head his mouth turning down, "Oh yeah... I'm definitely dreaming... without a doubt..."

Dean frowned hard and pressed the back of his hand to his little brother's forehead, _just because he's a crusader doesn't mean he can't get sick._

Sam brushed Dean's hand away and looked deep into his eyes, "If you go into my room you'll see me with Jess, only it's not _me_, and YOU? Dude you... well maybe not YOU _here_, but MY big brother... MY Dean... man whore..." he half frowned and shrugged, "Well he used to be..."

"Before hooking up with the dead chick?" Dean frowned and cocked his head to the side, "...sounds so wrong..."

"Yeah it does... but it's pretty much right... course she's not dead... what if it's not a dream? Dean what if another universe collapsed?" he wondered aloud, "Or maybe I AM in hell, or at least one version of it... or back to the 'dream' theory... Is dad dead or alive?" he asked.

"Dead Sammy you know that..."

"Because of the demon right?" Sam asked.

"Because of _some_ hellspawn or another... he died holding Clifton against the first wave, after their scout got through and tore up Bill..." Dean shook his head, wondering exactly what had gotten into his little brother. _Did he have a..._ "Did you have another vision Sam?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't think so... I mean my visions are the future... well one _possible_ future, but we've done kinda okay so far, preventing some of these things..." he looked at his older brother, "Did dad ever say anything to you about the demon having any plans for me? For children like me?... did he ever tell you that if you couldn't save me you might have to kill me?" he asked.

"What?!" he barked rubbing his hand through his hair, "No!... I mean, you're talking about the Yellow Eyed Demon right? Well... yeah we knew he had plans... I mean that's what you've been fighting against since he started coming to you in your dreams about a year and a half ago... right?"

_Like he did with the other children... but he didn't with me..._ Sam nodded, "This has to be a dream or another universe... another reality...he never came to me in my dreams Dean..." he muttered almost apologetically.

"But you told me about it after you'd had the same nightmare for that whole first week..." Dean questioned.

"Maybe the Sam that's in there with Jess did... but that's not how it happened for me..." Sam felt his brows furrow and shook his head but his eyes never left Dean's.

"So what you're trying to say is that you're a manifestation of another Sam?" the elder hunter nodded rising and moving to the door, "...and if I go into your room... I'll find another you... one that 'belongs' here... with your wife..."

Sam felt the world tilt under him and couldn't stop his slide from the side of the bed as breath stopped short and his heart danced in his chest and his eyes swam, _she married me! She said 'YES'! Thank you GOD!_ he grinned as Dean pressed his hand into the center of his chest, keeping him firmly planted on the bed.

"What the hell is with you?" he asked, "Stay..." he ordered pointing at a stunned silent and nodding little brother while he moved across the hall.

A second later the sound of his fist pounding on the door hit Sam's ears followed by the turning of a knob.

"Suh...sorry guys... nevermind..." Dean's voice preceded him down the hall back to his room where his body quickly followed and closed the door. He ran his hand down his face, lurched at the man sitting on his bed, grasped him by the t-shirt and pinned him to the wall, "Who are you and what the hell is going on here... and so help me if you try a single thing I'll have you exorcised so fast head spinning and projectile vomiting ain't gonna be all that happens..."

"I'm not a demon Dean... I'm not possessed... at least I don't think I am... but if you want you could dip me in holy water man... at this point I'm a little curious too..."

--

tbc.

Please R&R.

Thank You.

sifi.


	3. Chapter 3

Roads – chpt 3.

by: sifi.

--

"I don't understand this... I mean I really don't..." Sam shook his head.

"YOU don't understand it? Who the hell ARE you!?" Dean demanded.

"I told you... I'm me...I'm Sam... I'm just obviously not YOUR Sam..." he tried to explain without sounding as insane as he was starting to feel. "Look... We've really had a rough few weeks..."

"Heh... tell me about it..." the big-brother-who-wasn't grunted.

"No really... I mean it's been... kinda overwhelming..." Sam admitted.

"Seriously dude... tell me about it... talk to me... convince me before I shoot your ass full of..." he stopped noting Sam's version of his spocked eyebrow, "Yeah alright... but really.. spill..."

Sam shook his head and smirked, "Dean WANTS to talk... gotta be an alternate universe... no other explanation," he sighed, caught a bottle of water this not-Dean tossed to him, took a swallow and leaned forward, "I wish I had a good starting point..." the hard weeks after John's death, the time of Laura's disappearance, and all the things that had started when a Universe shattered seemed as good a place as any.

"Okay... we'd heard about these sleepwalking incidents in Washington state..." he began and found that once he got started, stopping was going to be the hard part.

--

"Uh, not that I don't take every opportunity to kiss him myself," Laura looked at the dryad once she extricated herself from Sam's supine form, "... but what'd you do to Dean?" she asked, her knees still drawn to her chest, as only the barest of moments had passed since the sprite entangled herself with the youngest Winchester.

"There are repercussions for him..." she trilled tilting her head to the side, her opal eyes softening to a gentle blue-green, "And you..."

Laura smiled, the dryad was asking, in her own way if there was something she could do to help the emissary before her. Laura shook her head but smiled softly, "Yeah..."

The dryad gave a single nod of understanding, turned with a leathery flap of the leaves that comprised her skirt and returned to her tree leaving Laura to wait.

--

"What the hell?" Dean asked looking around him, his stomach turned as carnage filled him. _I'm standing in the middle of a freakin' battlefield... what the hell happened here? Sam's the one supposed to be going through the head trip... did I fall asleep? I was kinda wrecked... yeah okay so it's a dream...okay... but what the hell..._ he shook his head wondering exactly how many bodies the parts around him added up to. "Oh God tell me Sam isn't here..." his blood seemed to grow thick and heavy in his veins and a shiver shook him. "Anything but that... please..." he breathed then began his search.

--

"Get down on all fours..." Dean instructed and made sure to bolt the bedroom door, "Just do it..." he smirked at the raised eyebrow and suspicious look on the face of this other Sam.

He tossed another pillow onto the floor after sweeping aside a stack of very old looking books.

Slowly Sam joined him on the floor, "I don't see what this is going to prove..."

"It's not gonna prove anything...just shut up and do what I tell you...now get your knees up real tight to your hands and put the top of your head on the pillow," Dean showed him step by step, "Then straighten your legs... you... you're gonna have to put your knees on your elbows to start with... if you can handle that then maybe you can try to get your feet up against the wall..." the elder hunter explained while skipping the interim step of putting his knees on his bent elbows and instead, with consummate control Sam realized must've taken tons of practice, Dean drew himself upright, his feet flat to the sky and his head and arms making a triangle on the floor. He held the pose without so much as a tremble while Sam acclimated himself to the primary position, his knees on his elbows just holding his balance.

He watched further amazed when this particular Dean, with one velvety smooth motion pushed himself into a handstand. What further surprised Sam was that his body was a uniform 1-2 inches away from the wall in nearly perfect alignment.

"Come on Sam... you got it..." he praised smoothly, his head hadn't moved to see how the brother who wasn't, was doing or holding his own in the first stage of the pose.

Sam felt his body straighten, as if such simple words of encouragement alone were enough.

"Hey Yoda... I think I got it..." he grinned only occasionally tapping his heels against the wall to ensure his balance.

"Do or do not... there is no try..." Dean smiled, "So you were saying... these cult bastards raised something that basically took your shape and hurt YOUR brother and his girlfriend while looking like you..."

"Right..." Sam nodded and almost lost his balance.

"Stillness Sammy... stillness..."

"If you only knew how that sounded coming out of your mouth..." Sam wanted to shake his head but didn't. He did have a reputation to uphold among the Winchester men, after all, he was supposed to be the quickest to learn, out of three intelligent, adaptable men.

"Each to his way man... so what's the problem? The thing wasn't YOU... it's not like it was using your body or anything... even if when it did... sorry, that was mine... have you been possessed yet?" Dean asked.

"Really hoping that's not on the agenda... so... not that I'm aware of..." Sam dropped down to all fours for a moment to let his blood flow return to normal.

"Well don't worry, you're not ... everything around here is spiked with holy water... One of our first lessons..."

"The water?" Sam asked.

"The water," Dean nodded.

"I'll have to remember that... provided I remember anything... provided I get a chance to... I just wish to hell I knew what was going on!? Am I in hell?! No offense..."

"None taken," Dean acknowledged while slowly lowering his legs and planting his feet so he looked like a triangle. To Sam's pure chagrin this Dean flowed smoothly backward, sweat soaking his shirt almost black as after he achieved a full bridge his feet came up once more and he held the handstand in the middle of the room without so much as a nearby wall for comfort.

"Or is it something else? A dream? A vision?..."

"Doubt it's a vision... in your world Jess died a year and a half ago right? Before you got the chance to propose?"

"I was gonna do it once I got past the Law School interview at Stanford... I was already shopping for rings... there was one I found... it was only an eighth of a karat but a year's worth of frat boy essays was worth it!... I only needed a couple more papers to pay for it..." he tilted his head to the side and half frowned, "I suppose I coulda hustled a couple games to get it that much faster..."

"But you would've been even more devastated if you'd already proposed and she'd said yes when the demon took her from you... why was there a problem with you being at college?" this Dean asked, his eyes upside down as they were, boring into Sam's across the room, back up against the wall and also upside down. The look on the young prophets' face was pure astonishment. As was the look that followed when his arm buckled and he wound up on his side, his bony ginormous feet putting a dent into the drywall.

"Touchy subject eh?" Dean grinned righting himself and lending a hand to this young man who so reminded him of the Sam he'd known before the visions and nightmares, and demonic visitations had started. The Sam that _this_ Dean hoped would be able to return one day, once his crusade was won.

"It wasn't something my dad considered once mom was gone and he took us on the road with him... he fell so hard into hunting and trying to eradicate the evil out there that I guess that kinda overshadowed things..."

"Like what might be the right thing for his kids?" Dean asked running a towel across his neck.

"Exactly!" Sam started to pace as Dean slid into an easy and nearly perfect Warrior pose before folding his torso over his front leg, twisting to the side and creating an astonishing blend of angles and lines. "He assumed I was going to spend my life hunting the evils out there! like nothing else I did mattered! Dude I scored a FULL FREAKING RIDE to STANFORD!... FREAKIN STANFORD DEAN!" he half shouted.

"I doubt dad wasn't proud Sam... if my John Winchester and yours were anything alike at all... I bet he took every opportunity to brag his ass off about it... God knows he made me sick once or twice... just lucky for you I was proud as hell too!... and I know this much... My dad? MY John Winchester was scared shitless at the idea of you being out there on your own... but he did let you go..." Dean moved deftly through downward facing dog, through updog, and back into warrior pose on the other side.

"Yeah well mine told me to get out and never come back!" Sam stormed.

"No..."

"Yeah... his exact words were... 'if you're going you might as well STAY gone! If you walk out that door don't come back!'..." Sam sneered, he hadn't realized how much anger he still harbored toward his father, and part of him felt so petty about hanging on to it, especially in light of all that had come since they'd run across Luther and his crew to obtain the colt. Still another part of him realized he needed this catharsis, maybe in some ways more than he'd ever realized.

"That sucks..." this Dean acknowledged balanced precariously between one hand and the alternating foot one directly behind the other and in such a nearly perfect alignment that Sam was having difficulty reconciling it, "You think he meant it?" he asked.

"I know he didn't..." the backbone of his anger sliding somewhere he couldn't fathom left the young Winchester starchless, "He never did... Dean told me he used to... dad that is... drive by Stanford whenever he was close by... just to check and make sure I was okay... I never knew it... he never LET me know it... and... and... yeah... he was proud of me... the few people we've run into... what he said while we were waiting for Dean... the couple moments... and Dean told me too so... and he's NEVER lied to me... not when it mattered! not when he KNEW I'd know... he doesn't lie to me..."

"So...? Why don't you just level with yourself?" Dean asked finally ending his game of auto-twister and sitting on the opposite side of the bed rubbing his sweat drenched hair with a towel while he chugged hard on a bottle of undoubtedly holy water spiked... water.

"What?..." Sam asked, his blue greens already swimming as catharsis threatened to overtake him, "... that I miss him? That I'm sorry? That while I finally get that he was scared for me to be out there on my own... that I'm still pissed as hell at him for not trusting me enough to be able to take all those lessons, all those precautions into consideration? That when I finally find someone I can love who loves me back just for who I am... not cause I hunted something that scared them, not cause of anything besides the fact that I'm Sam Winchester with a 4.2 GPA who scored one point below perfect on his freakin LSAT... that I BLAME HIM and his God DAMNED anti-evil crusade for screwing UP my life AGAIN!" he half hollered.

"There you go... that's getting to the bone of it..." this Dean half smiled tossing a clean towel at the young man before rising, "You move from this room and I'll break your neck..." he smiled closing the door behind himself, leaving Sam to compose himself, to let out whatever he needed to into the towel in his hands, in the privacy of a closed room while Dean procured some breakfast for them.

--

"Okay... so getting back to the whole thing here... where do you think you are now?" this Dean asked sitting across a large platter filled with dried fruits, melon, nuts and a couple chicken breasts on it while looking at this discordant Sam.

"I don't know... the last thing I remember was pushing the muzzle of my gun into my chin..." he looked down shame faced as a body memory came to him.

"Hey..." Dean nudged Sam's knee with his foot, "We've all had the moment Sam... You, me, Jess, Earl, Carla... every single one of us... and a lot of us didn't survive it."

Sam raised his eyes needing to know if he was sincere. Slowly Sam nodded, "... actually the last thing I really remember?... was Laura... I couldn't stop... man I felt like I was drowning, suffocating... practically bawling like a calf... but I couldn't stop..."

"Laura the dead chick?" he asked visibly thinking as Sam nodded, "... you said she's an emissary of ... which God?"

"Cernunnos... your patron deity in fact..."

"So y'all are close?"

Sam nodded, "We're kinda family..."

"Huh...well if she's that closely associated with a God could she have done something to you? Spiked your beer with something? Put some kind of whammy on you?"

Sam shook his head, "She's just a girl Dean... she doesn't have any kind of superpowers or anything... I mean... well there is the whole influence thing... and she can dip... but this? Something this... pervasive... nah. I mean... this is a whole complete reality... touchable...see?" he grinned playfully sticking his foot practically in the elder hunter's face to show him the plaster dust that was still between his toes.

"Freakin big foot man! get that thing outta my face..." Dean grinned sweeping the leg to the side, making them both chuckle easily. Slowly through the last hour and a half Sam had begun to feel some of his burden starting to ease and he wondered if he could have talked to _his_ Dean like this. He wondered what would happen if he set his guard completely aside, rather than just letting it down, and faced him man to man, setting aside the baggage that came with knowing how much his big brother had sacrificed all his life for him.

"Alright... whatever you just thought about... leave the wolf out the door..." this Dean recommended.

"Actually I was thinking about you..."

"Your me?" he asked. Sam nodded and Dean frowned, "Don't tell me we don't get along or something..."

"No! Nothing like that at all!" Sam shook his head fiercely, "No... I mean like any old married couple we have our moments..."

"But..."

Sam shook his head, "I was just wondering if... what would happen... if he'd..."

"Let you live down having doubts?"

"Damn you're good!"

"Course I'm good... I'm the big brother... I'm the _best,_ little man... and don't you forget it..."

"You'd never let me..."

"Damned straight... seriously though... I bet he'd be cool about it... I mean really Sam, at least in two 'worlds' for want of a better term... we're pretty much all we've got left by way of blood... there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, to keep you safe as I can..."

Sam nodded, "I know that... and the same here..."

"So what're you gonna do?" this big brother asked.

Sam shrugged, "Last I knew we were in North Carolina so... I guess that's where I have to get back to in order to figure out what's going on... how I got here..." he stopped and met Dean's spocked eyebrow, "Unless this is all in my head then it'll be a helluva waste of time and mental energy..."

"Maybe... maybe not..." Sam shrugged.

"Well, whether you're dreaming... I don't feel like someone else's dream just for the record... or in another universe, or a parallel reality, or some freaky fevered hallucination, and I don't feel like a freaky fevered hallucination either by the way... your head's here for a reason so maybe till you figure out the point of it all you're just supposed to figure out what you're supposed to be doing..."

"I almost think I tried to understand that... but... what?"

"I'm saying there might be a reason you're here... at Clifton instead of North Carolina no matter why, how or what brought you here."

Dean got up, left the room only to return a few seconds later with a pair of socks and Sam's gym shoes, "Here," he smiled exiting back into the hall yet again where his fist sounded against Sam's door once more.

Sam heard the sound of the door opening and Dean's voice, "I'm going for a drive... I'll be back later."

There were assorted unintelligible mutterings before the door shut again and Dean nodded at his window. Sam nodded his understanding while the elder hunter picked his way through the still sodden troops sprawled around the house.

--

tbc.

Please R&R y'all know how much it means...

Thank You.

sifi


	4. Chapter 4

Roads – chpt 4.

by: sifi

--

There was something strange about the parts that littered the battlefield around him, they looked normal but not, and it wasn't until he found the first severed head that he realized a truth. Once it was established in his mind, other clues and cues came to the fore, there were no insects where a normal battlefield would have been swarming with them. The parts that lay so Dali-esquely on the landscape all seemed to have the same gray, waxy surreal sheen. When he forced himself to grasp the face-down head and roll it over, even as he did so something clicked and his heart stuttered in his breast if only for a moment.

_They're sidhe... every single one of them... the proportion is perfect just... decreased..._ and he held up his own arm in comparison, entranced by the fact that from his fingertips, the color seemed to have leeched from him, and though the waxen sheen did seem to be gloving his hand in the smallest of increments, he reminded himself of Laura returning to her normal color after turning up full body blue and looking like a short brown/auburn haired Mystique, _Sans scales of course... damn that's one truly sexy mutant!... mmm! Sorry sweetheart but... man... undeniable hotness!_ he shook his head imagining Laura's nod of approval.

_Mmmm'kay... so... I'm not likely going to find Sammy here... Thank GOD for that!... so what's the point? Why'm I dreaming this?_

--

"Why'd you bring me here?" Sam asked, an unconscious grin lighting his face with the Impala's 'squee and buckle' that was home to him.

Sam didn't know what he expected, police, ambulances, the FBI combing the scene, looking for him and Dean, trying to find something else to pin on them, but an undisturbed battlefield wasn't one of them. Even with a mild temperature, the mid morning sun was doing hard work on the bodies and pieces of both sides' fallen. Insects swarmed the field, and scavengers of all stripe from avian to feline to canine were moving among the dead, a feast for the taking.

"Oh God... Dean..." he felt the wind suck out of his body as reality came into hard edged focus. He'd seen enough dead things in his life to know what they looked like, to know what he was seeing and yet as the details of the victims came to him, he felt his stomach clench. An old scar over a boys' eyebrow, a broken tooth on a man no older than himself, dried brown streaks holding hostage a gelatinous wad of gray matter despite the work a hungry raven put into it, on the face of a woman to his left. A flash of blood soaked bone tearing through flaps of skin while hungry housecats tore at the tasty muscle beneath, tugging through the white tendon, flossing their sharp little teeth on the stringy veins and vessels. A determined vixen tugged at half a child's torso that should've been climbing a jungle gym in a grade school playground, undoubtedly bringing the tender young feast to her kits. The scent of bowel and rot hung heavy in the air with the buzzing of the insects becoming amplified, magnified in waves that crashed back and forth over him, almost some kind of call and response among the swarms, _'hey how's it going over there?' "Great how about there?" 'awesome... the putrescence is really thick around here!... we're gonna lay some eggs, hatch some larvae and...'..._ he turned his head and doubled over, dry heaving into the brown stained ground.

"Oh God..." he grunted feeling the solid warmth of the brother that wasn't, at his side. One hand under his forehead, the other on his back as his stomach clenched again. "Did I do this?... all these people... why aren't there any cops here? Where are the feds?" he asked in a voice that felt eight years old again and was begging Dean to believe that he wouldn't let any rats get into him while he slept. "Someone should be here..."

"The number one rule of war is that people die," Dean reminded him softly while sweeping a palm load of dirt over the puddle of bile that had finally come forth.

Silent in acknowledgement Sam nodded, sat back on his heels and shook his head, "But where are they Dean?... you can't tell me..." he turned locking eyes with his big brother in bone freezing realization. "No..."

Dean nodded, "All the gates... simultaneous strikes, they went right for the 'authority' figures just like your vision said they would... if it hadn't been for you and the few others who were able to see through the demon... well, I doubt we'd have much at all left to worry about..."

"Then what? They're fanning out? They've taken positions of power!? They're OUT THERE and we're standing here doing... doing..." he yelled through the burning heat in his chest that made the bile in the back of his throat taste like cotton candy, "We FAILED Dean!... we LET those things get out!... What about the Igigi? Did they pick a side? Were we right about them? Can they... WILL they help us?" he stormed pacing frantically while his fingers dug through his hair, his mind spinning barely within control as he sifted through the locations of various gateways to hell in the U.S. _not that closing them now will do any good! My God how do we stop this now? How do we fix this? How do we win against an army that can take over anyone!_

Dean smiled benignly feeling the same warmth and love for this Sam and his passion as he did for HIS Sam. _He's forgotten this isn't his world... your shoulders aren't that big little brother... you're gonna have to let this one slide, we have our Crusader and he's back at home loving his wife._

"Sam..." he said softly, that same smile lighting his features all the way up through his eyes. The kind of smile Sam hadn't seen on Dean's face in a long time, far too long.

_That's my fault too... _he felt something tearing deep inside, the more desperately he tried to cling to the pieces of whatever it was that had started breaking as far back as the night Jess was taken from him, the more readily those pieces seemed to crumble to dust in his hands.

"Oh God... Dean... I can't do this... I can't BE this... it's too big... I can't..." his heart beat hard in his chest and he wished for his gun back in his hand. _I'll do it this time I swear to God... I can't live like this... I can't do this... it's too much for one person to handle!_ and he wanted to hit something, again and again, and again until there was nothing left, of either his target object or himself, he didn't care as long as nothing remained.

"Sam..." Dean blocked his path, his hands, always so strong and certain fell onto his shoulders firmly and easily. His jade green eyes fixed into Sam's and the young man felt his panic pay attention, "You don't have to... this world has it Knight Errant..."

"Right... right... of course... yeah...heh... yeah... but what if this is going to happen in my world Dean? What if...? I can't DO THIS!" he wrestled the stallion that wanted to rip out of him and run until it died.

"Hey!" Dean clasped his head between his hands, "Listen to me... breathe..." he instructed, his body humming with the terror that was coming through his hands, moving through his own systems in an attempt to flee the youngest Winchester, Dean willed the discordant energy to pass through him, to burrow into the earth where it could disperse with little harm.

"Are you afraid to fly?" Sam asked suddenly as his body responded, his lungs filled with air and his panicked mind and heart grasped at the life sustaining inhalation.

Dean smiled crookedly, "A bit yeah...why?" he asked.

"We ever exorcise a phantom traveler?"

"United Britannia... flight four two four... yeah..." Dean smiled.

"Really?" Sam asked, his brows furrowed as the beast in his breast ceased its bucking and screaming and stood pawing the ground and snorting instead.

"Yeah... why?"

"Dean and I... same airline, same flight... so there _are_ some parallels..."

"Guess so," Dean smirked clapping his little brother on the arms, "So... any ideas what exactly might be happening here Eisenstein?"

Sam shook his head, "Best I've got is that whole glimpsing the multiverse thing Dean went through in Washington..."

"Yeah but you're _here_..." Dean said tapping his chest, "I can touch you... you can affect matter here... from what you told me, _your_ Dean told you... he couldn't... he could only observe and even then it was sporadic and disjointed..."

"But he felt it... God Dean... he felt so much... it hurt him so... deep..." Sam winced.

The Dean before him nodded, "I get that... but maybe part of the hurt was cause he couldn't affect any of it...and you did say... he said, it was variations on his theme right?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah... seemed like..." he swallowed hard around a lump in his throat wondering why he hadn't pressed his big brother for more information. Fact was he was just too happy to get out of there with Dean in tact, mentally and mostly physically. Fact was, he'd been scared, pure and simple. Whatever his big brother had gone through had scared him in a way no supernatural being ever could, and he'd counted among his blessings, their getting out of the area alive let alone largely unscathed.

"Yeah... from what he said... he saw things from the eyes of the other Deans'... nothing really external..."

"So... as much as I hate to... all things considered, pardon the pun... burst your bubble... I'm guessing this isn't the same kind of phenomenon..." Dean winced with a half smile that spoke of sympathy.

Sam nodded smiling companionably back, "Any way we look at it... I have to find a way to get home... if this is a glimpse at what might be coming... people have to be warned... we know other hunters... not a lot of them but... we have to... I mean Ellen can spread the word but she has to know what word to spread!... and I'm willing to bet there are more havens for hunters than Harvell's Roadhouse..." he stopped, mouthed the words again and smiled, "...say that ten times fast..."

Dean cracked a smile motioning to the Impala, "Let's go figure out how to get you home then..."

He pulled the door open, his smile warm and comforting as he looked across the roof of the car, meeting empty air.

"Sam?" he called looking around the battlefield, "Sammy!?" he tried again while circling the car. He stayed for a few more minutes, looking around, making sure the kid some other him had raised was truly gone.

"I hope you find whatever it is you need Sammy..." he looked upward, his throat tightening, "Look after him willya?... both of you..." then slid behind the wheel of his faithful Metallicar and felt just a little lessened with the empty seat beside him.

--

"So you got..." Sam turned, his hand reaching out for a car door that was no longer there, asking a question of a Dean who was also, no longer there. He looked around and swallowed hard, the littered battlefield remained but he found himself alone, if only for an instant.

"Mr. Winchester?" a young boy spoke breathlessly behind him.

Sam wheeled around, "Yeah?"

The child inched forward, his hand outstretched, a piece of folded over white between his fingers, fear on his face, and perhaps just a little awe.

"I'm not gonna hurt you..." he smiled gently, reaching his own hand out just before an alarm sounded loud and clear inside himself, "Put it down under a rock and back away," Sam ordered feeling something heavy in his guts. In his mind's eye he saw his hand reach unsuspectingly toward the boy, and the boy's hand flick out. He also would've sworn he could feel his skin sear wide open in a burning path along his arm.

The boy before him smirked, blinked with black on black eyes and did as instructed before retreating in a cloud of that living dark dust.

_Well I'll be damned..._he thought keeping his eyes wide open as he reached for the sheet of paper and pulled it from beneath the rock.

--

_What is that? Water?_ Dean thought suddenly feeling particularly thirsty. He cocked his head to the side, stepping away from the torn and jagged edged sidhe parts on the ground. Slowly he moved toward the sound, his senses sharp and his hackles on end despite the certainty that he was only dreaming.

The further he moved through the thickening flora the more urgent the sound became though slowly he came to notice another layer of noise crashing through the underbrush. His heart stalled as that second sound was identified a bare instant before he saw snarling ivory jaws snapping while a black bodied killing machine leaped at him, ropy strands of bloodied saliva slinging thickly from its jaw.

His hands flew to his head defensively and he threw himself to the ground, face down as the first of three such feral beasts passed his position. _What the fuh...?_ he thought at the same moment the unmistakable sound of one of those creatures crying out a death scream that sounded oddly familiar just before a purely animal whimper kissed his ear. He leaped to his feet, patting himself down at every pocket and place he would normally be carrying a weapon and coming up frustratingly empty. He crashed through the flora, a chill bowing his spine as he heard her familiar voice.

"Go! Now!" it was little more than a whisper weaving its way through the cacophony of snarls, tearing, gnashing and slashing he could hear, but it was unmistakable.

_Laura..._ he pulled up short at the sight before him.

Half a dozen sidhe stood behind her, their blades drawn and ready as she leaned down, pulling her sword from the chest of the beast on the ground.

"Go!" she urged as two more closed in, the same rabid feral glow in their eyes, they smelled easy prey.

"Hey!" Dean called hoping to distract them. "Hey got some fresh meat for you!" he reached forward, but the plants he wanted to rustle were not his to be held. "Son of a bitch... come on! This isn't fair...Dream or not... this sucks!" he groaned cocking his head to the side, "Well... she's got clothes on... damn my dreams! Not that nekked isn't good but ... where would you put the sword?" he raised his head just as one of the two remaining beasts leaped at her, "Look out!... Guh... damnit!" he cursed watching her cleave the beast's head free from its neck, loosing a curtain of obscenely red blood to soak her clothes, apparently not for the first time, while his mouth dropped open at the sight of billows of rolling demon smoke soaring up beyond the tops of the trees to disappear from sight. Her movements were economical as her swing brought her into position, the tip of the blade piercing the throat of the third one as it leaped at one of the sidhe behind her. With the crispy-dull butcher sound of the sword point emerging on the far side of the creature's neck, this one too loosed a howl, its snub muzzle raised to the sky as yet another demon was expelled.

_What the hell kind of dog is that? It's not wolf, not werewolf, not any kind of dog I've ever seen... not black dog or hell hound... possessed... they possessed animals..._ he thought watching her usher her charges speedily ahead, there was no time to lose, the forest was already carrying the sounds of more beings approaching.

"Son of a bitch..." she huffed then severed its head cleanly, "Now... MOVE!" she ordered angrily of the sidhe who'd wanted only to help.

Not too far behind him there was another wave of rustling foliage and the sound of more danger hot on their heels that thrust his heart into high gear, "Go Laura... go, go, go..." he urged following close behind, knowing she couldn't hear him, knowing he couldn't effect anything here, but unable to defy his instinctive need to help. _"...predators driven mad by possession, perverted against their nature..." that's what she said... but why would I be dreaming this?_

He watched his girl and her charges duck under the arms of an ancient tree drowning in lichen and slid to the ground beside her, "What're you doing? You gotta keep moving... come on honey... get your ass up and get moving!" he urged watching as she lay on her belly, her eyes wide, her fear a palpable thing as legs darted past their position.

"That was too freakin' close woman! What the hell do you think you're doing!?" he hissed through his teeth, wondering how this hidey hole had been missed. Wondering if maybe he was wrong and somehow it had wards of its own that kept them camouflaged. "But those animals...those were no normal dogs... those weren't even black dogs... I mean they were black but... what the hell _were_ those things?" he asked looking back and wondering if he should go take a closer look at one of them.

A sound he couldn't place drew his attention, his eyes wide and mouth pursed in incredulity. His girl on his right, her forehead pressing into the mulchy soil beneath the tree, her hands trembling so hard she could only keep them still by fisting them into the earth, her back and breath quivering while drops splattered in fat, heavy pairs from her eyes to wet the ground below, "I can't stop this..."

It took a moment for the words and their meaning to find their way into his comprehension, his Laura and the concept of defeat were mutually exclusive. They didn't belong in the same thought. He knew her words had been spoken only to herself, not loud enough for any of the Sidhe clinging to the trunk of the tree to have even believed she'd spoken at all. And he shook his head while gooseflesh broke over his body.

"No... no honey come on, this isn't your fault... okay so you can't stop it... but you CAN save a LOT of lives here! This isn't your fault!... NO ONE could ask you to save an entire universe alone! NO ONE could expect you to stop what's coming!... Come on now... it's okay, it's gonna be okay..." he tried to soothe and felt his temper flare when his hand passed through her.

One of the younger Sidhe came creeping toward her, a liquid susurration caressing the air while it patted her head.

To their left, from the area of the slain creatures, more foliage rustled, thick leathery leaves, heavy and shiny with recent blood spray, and the arrival of another group of sidhe could be seen as to their right a mournful sound rent the air, the sound of something not quite canine catching the scent of fresh prey.

--

"Alright... I'm here..." Sam called, his eyes searching every shadow nearby as he turned in a slow circle. He'd been surprised, upon finding Dean and the Impala gone, to realize he was armed not only with the Colt, but also a machete on his belt and his favorite knife.

His heart thumped the inside walls of his chest and he swallowed down the lump in his throat.

"Sammy?" Dean stepped warily out from the shadowed side of a long ago defunct bakery.

"Your note said you wanted to talk... What do you want?" Sam asked as his big brother drew to a halt a dozen yards before him.

"Besides you next to me again?" Dean shook his head, "How many soldiers did you lose last night Sam? How many good people sacrificed their lives for YOUR crusade? Huh?... How many more have to die!?..." the elder hunter took two steps closer, his hand outstretched, tears in his eyes cleaning his still battle grimed cheeks, "Sam... please... you have to understand... you CAN'T win!... I cant' LET you win..." he sniffed.

--

tbc.

please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi.


	5. Chapter 5

Roads – Chpt 5.

by: sifi.

--

"You don't have a choice Dean... you never did..." _Is this me? or is this the Sam that belongs here saying this?_ he wondered.

"Sam... please..." his big brother pleaded taking another step forward, his hand still reaching out, his eyes, those big liquid jade colored eyes pleading as only they could.

"Please... Sammy..."

Sam felt his heart lurch to a gallop within his chest... how could he deny his brother anything? Hadn't they always been more than willing to give everything, including their lives for the other? Why was this different? What made this moment so hurtful? Why was this Dean crying and why did Sam want to cry along side him? Hold onto him like he did when they were kids and there was no shame in it? Why did it have to be awkward to want to hold him in the kind of embrace only brothers ever knew?

"Dean..." he felt himself say.

And still, something stayed him.

"Damnit Sam! Don't you understand? Don't you know what's going to happen? YOU of all people?!"

"What? You're gonna kill me?" Sam scoffed as a shiver ran up his spine.

It was an odd thing, he realized to see his own body pull forward, drawn as he always was to the big brother before him. _This is wrong... one of us is very wrong... was the kid a captive of his that he let go to bring me the note, course then why would I think it was gonna hurt me? Cause that's its nature? Did I really go darkside? Am I possessed? God tell me I didn't go down the road voluntarily... tell me I didn't CHOOSE evil..._ he thought holding his breath against the panic inside.

"Come with me Sam... Please..." his voice cracked while his arm reached forward, "It's not too late... I promise..." he sniffed.

Sam watched himself step forward, one hand on the machete and the other held open at his side, empty. His hands went reflexively to his own hips and he looked down. Once more he was in the simple sweats and t-shirt he'd gone to bed in the previous night. No shoes or socks, no weapons of any kind on him. Not even the gun he wanted back in his hand more than anything. He knew if he had a weapon of any kind he'd kill the Sam in front of him before he'd let anything happen to Dean. _Never Dean... I'd never hurt you I swear it..._ he thought and wondered if this one would hear him.

"Dean!" he called watching for a response, "Dean don't let me get near you!" he warned despite his quick realization that it was futile.

_physics... same objects in the same space at the same time... did the other one hear me because the other Sam was in his room? Behind a closed door?... I don't understand the limitations here..._ he thought and ducked down picking up a stone. Hefting it in his palm he quickly chucked it at his 'other' self. The stone disappeared into the back of the other Sam's head to 'plink' to a stop against this Dean's chest where it fell to the ground harmlessly.

_Well that's...huh... I didn't expect that..._

Dean spocked his eyebrow at the Sam before him who stopped in his tracks and turned a quick circle, scanning the area for any others.

"You've been practicing..." he smirked.

Sam shook his head, "I didn't do anything... if I was gonna chuck something at you Dean, it wouldn't be a pebble..."

"Valid point..." Dean nodded then shrugged running his hand down his face, carrying away his tears, leaving dirty streaks in their place, "...guess your guardian angel's kind of a wussy..." he shook his head, "Ahh Sammy... you're not going to win this, you know that don't you..."

The other Sam took another step toward Dean, his hand still on the machete, "Dean please don't do this... we're stronger together... we always have been... you're my big brother..."

"You're a big boy now Sam... you make your own decisions... your own choices. I want you to choose to stand with me, stand beside me, the way it's supposed to be..."

"Dean! He's got the colt!..." Sam called a warning, _Wonder how many bullets they have left here? Either way, a bullet's a bullet...Son of a bitch don't you touch my brother! _He looked around, his eyes frantically seeking anything, any means of making this Dean see him, _I could keep chuckin' stones at him but that's not gonna help... _he circled the Sam in front of him and stood before this Dean, his hand passing through his shoulder rather than able to grasp it as he'd hoped would happen.

"Damnit!" he ground between clenched teeth as Dean stepped forward, moving through him, proving to him in no uncertain terms that in this particular world he could do very little to affect either of the men in front of him. _I wish I was back in the other world... or my own... how am I going to find my way home? Am I really here?..._ he patted his chest, tugged on his t-shirt, and pawed the ground with his bony toes. _It all feels real... including me... but how'd I get here... man I need help..._

"I can't do that Dean... we both have a part to play here... we both have our own destiny to fulfill... but you... you've never believed in destiny, you can still change yours!" Sam argued.

"I can make the same argument to you Sam... but you're right about one thing, we both do have a part to play here..." Dean nodded.

They each moved with blurring speed, Sam drawing his machete with one hand while the free one dug into his jacket, withdrew the colt, cocked it, and had it pointed at the center of his big brother's chest, while the long heavy blade spun like the rotors of a helicopter at the man who raised him.

"Nooooo!" Sam felt his body tighten as he lurched at the machete, his hand outstretched to come down from above to hit the flat of the whirling blade. He heard the voice of the other Sam call out, "Dean!" and looked up at his big brother's smiling face. His eyes widened and he gasped as the colt slid effortlessly into Dean's outstretched hand, still cocked, and once more aimed directly at the center of a Winchester.

"Don't make me do this Sammy..." Dean pleaded once more apparently oblivious to the tears that were sliding out of his oily yellow eyes.

"It's all you get..." Sam stood still, waiting, wondering if his big brother would be able to do anything to help him, wondering if he was truly gone from this body before him.

"No! Dean!" Sam gasped, his mind racing to try and figure out what might have happened to allow this impossibility. He glanced between the machete on the ground, and the colt in his big brothers' hand then dove at the sound of thunder.

--

"Sam..." Laura snapped awake as he gasped beside her then stilled.

"Sam?" She shook off sleep's haze and pressed her fingers to his throat while checking her watch. _The tranquilizer should be wearing off soon..._ "Dryad?" she called looking at the graying sky but sensing something off. The shadows on the ground were deep but the grass was luminous with sunlight. _Something isn't right..._ "Dryad!" she called fiercely while moving to Dean.

"Dean? Sweetie wake up..." she shook him by the shoulder first then by the chin.

"What did you do to them you BITCH!?" her skin was crawling before she turned to storm toward the tree.

Smoke curled in front of her and was gone just as fast causing her to dodge to the side before she was able to realize it was harmless.

"Get out here and talk to me!" she pounded against the bole of the tree, casting a glance over her shoulder to the boys.

A spot of red caught her eye, "SAM?!" she turned back, her fist beating the trunk a few more times, "Get out here!" before hopping over Dean, and kneeling at Sam's side where she hiked his t-shirt up and pulled the waistband of his sweats down over his hip.

"What the hell..." she breathed swallowing her fear. There was a three inch long tear in his side about an inch above his hip bone that had dug a shallow ridge in his flesh. _Okay... it's not deep... it looks like he was grazed by a bullet... what the HELL!?_

Wood cracked and splintered as another wisp of smoke zipped past her line of sight. The Dryad emerged from her home to stand a few feet away from the still unconscious elder hunter.

"What the hell is this?!" Laura demanded pointing to the tear in his body, "You were supposed to show him his options! Not put him in harms' way!"

"The choices are his... this is what you asked for him," she fluted tilting her head to the side, her eyes emerald green with centers of orange flame brightening deep inside.

"How long is he going to stay under?" she asked wondering why she hadn't thought to before. She pointed at the wound on the young man's body while digging in Dean's pocket for the bandana he carried, "This isn't supposed to cause him any kind of physical harm! He's supposed to be an observer!"

"All choices have repercussions..."

"And what about Dean? How long is he gonna be out?" she asked angrily, wetting the piece of cloth in the stream before returning to Sam's side to clean his wound.

"That is for him to decide..."

"Oh you're just... a font of information aren't you?" she sneered, her hand swatting reflexively at another wisp that seemed to be lingering around her head, "What the hell IS that? Is something on fire?" she asked as the developmentally ambiguous creature stepped forward, her opal eyes shining flame yellow. She cocked her head to the side and pressed the heel of her hand to Laura's forehead.

"You are...more..."

"What?" Laura shook her head.

The dryad closed her eyes, her fingertips pressing with frightening strength against Laura's skull, "...not as you were...altered..."

"OW!... and what're you talking about?" Laura asked shaking her head, her vision drawn to vague swirls of gray in the sky.

She felt her jaw drop as the dryad backed away, returning to her tree, "What do you mean? Altered?... What if I wake them? Will it hurt them?"

"They will wake on their own emissary...if that is the choice they make," she reiterated, visibly taking comfort in the proximity of her tree.

"What!? NO! That's NOT part of the deal! Undo this! WAKE THEM UP!" she ordered pointing to them while standing face to face with the tree spirit.

"They must choose," she reiterated.

"Damnit!..." Laura scrubbed her face and shook her head, _I have to have faith in them... they'll be okay... they'll come back..._ she assured herself, "What do you mean altered?! Altered how?" she asked harshly.

"Seek your patron..." she said backing into the trunk once more to the sound of splintering wood, until she was gone.

Laura shook her head, "Cernunnos... what did you do?" she wondered aloud far more relieved but still far too aware that something wasn't right, "Whatever...later'll be soon enough..." she shook her head returning to Sam to finish cleaning his wound as best as possible.

--

"Ahh son of a bitch!" Sam snarled rolling on the ground, his hand over his hip as he quickly turned, rising to his knees to watch this unimaginable confrontation.

"You HAVE been practicing..." this demon possessed Dean nodded impressed as this other Sam closed on him.

"I'm sorry Dean... I'm so sorry..." this Sam choked against the tears that drizzled down his face, "I shouldn't have let this go on..." he closed the distance between them, a flash of silver flicked in the light before disappearing into the chest of the eldest Winchester brother.

Sam watched horrified as the smirk that had so often infuriated him, that had just as often entertained him or made him smile, twisted upwards while oily yellow eyes looked smugly into this Sam's face before growing wide with some terrible realization. Somehow something had gone wrong, and the yellow eyed demon inhabiting his big brother knew it.

Demon dying lightning coursed through Dean's body as it fell to its knees. This other Sam knelt in front of him, watching the demon inside him die.

"I'm sorry Dean... I'm so sorry... I didn't have the strength before... I wanted to believe it was alright, that you were just you... I was weak Dean... I'm sorry..." he let the sobs tear from his throat as he held his brother's body to him, far too aware that the Dean who'd raised him, and loved him and done his best to always shield him from the nightmare things out there had died in a filthy dilapidated cabin on a night a year ago at the hands of the very same yellow eyed demon that he'd finally just killed.

Sam got to his feet noticing the red on his hand and lifted his shirt, examining the rift in his skin left by the passage of the colt's bullet. _Interaction with non living matter... check... well at least it's just a graze. _"So what now?" he wondered aloud while wiping the tears from his face. It was no easy thing to see his brother killed by his own hand, even if what was inside hadn't really been Dean. He nodded to himself fully understanding how this other Sam had let himself live in hope, or denial, whichever was the truth. "I don't know that I could've killed him either... what I'd like to know though is how a simple knife could do it..." he frowned kneeling at the other Sam's side, peering closely at the blade he'd withdrawn from Dean's chest.

Beneath the deep red blood he could see symbols engraved into the blade and as he took a small step back for perspective he realized that this blade wasn't his. It wasn't his, or Dean's or one of their dad's. He'd never seen it before but he did recognize some of the symbols and thought he might have an idea of where it'd come from. "If I ever get back home I might have to check that out..."

A series of wailing howls split the air around the three Winchesters as Sam and his 'other' self looked up simultaneously, each of them scanning the area around them as pillars of billowing demon smoke took to their earthly forms, surrounding their dead leader and both of the Sam's.

"Son of a bitch..."

"Son of a bitch..." they said.

--

Dean stood horrified, crushed against the feel of his own impotence in this dream. If this dream was in fact a representation of what had gone on for those long months Laura was fighting for the sidhe world he wasn't sure he could contend with the knowledge of it. He was filled with pride in her, in how well and ferociously she'd stood against the minions of this second yellow eyed threat, and his heart broke each time they lost ground against it. By the time they'd managed to evacuate most of the sidhe the carnage and decimation left behind had his stomach turning. The tortures he'd witnessed gleefully executed by this new threat or those under its command brought tears to his eyes. He was exhausted for both of them as he watched her help to part the final veil between their worlds, ushering the last of the diminutive folk through, while she continued to fight having finally reached the state she'd been in when he felt her presence in the woods.

"You should have told me..." he chastised softly, "... you shouldn't have had to carry this all alone..."

Pursuers crashed through the underbrush just beyond their sight as the last of the 'wee people' moved through the veil leaving his girl to stand alone in a shattering graveyard of a universe, alone to find her own way back to him. As she moved so too did he unbeknownst to her, at her side every step of the way.

--

tbc.

Please R&R

Thanks, sifi.


	6. Chapter 6

Roads – chpt 6.

by: sifi.

--

Both Sam's rose to their feet as the squad of demons closed in, tightening the noose around them. The hard part was that the Sam who belonged here fully believed himself to be alone. And the Journeying Sam wasn't so sure he wasn't. He knew he could interact with the matter if not directly with the beings in their corporeal state, and though he knew his own Dean, and probably this one as well, before his possession, would have wanted nothing more than to keep Sam safe... _If these are possibilities... this is one I CAN'T let happen!_ he wasn't sure he could do much about it. Still, he reached for the ceremonial knife with its engraved symbols of power just as the Sam that belonged here did. He stopped himself and grabbed the machete instead.

Sam's hand closed absently on the hilt of the knife he'd buried deep in the heart of his brothers' body and swung, the blade cut cleanly through the nearest embodied demon. His moves were so fast and sure, and his focus so full that he was unaware of the machete rising from the ground to slice at another that was coming up from behind him.

The remaining 5 demons halted their progress, their steps faltering, their expressions uncertain. They'd been informed that the betrayer had never chosen to exercise his gifts, that he'd never tried to develop them, and they wondered if the self-wielding machete might be reflexive. They also wondered if perhaps, there might be before them, the rightful leader they all craved. At least until the deed was done and they could dispose of him properly.

--

"Dean... Come on honey I need you to get up now..." Laura urged, trying hard to keep any sense of panic from inching forward in her voice as she swabbed once more at the line of red that was sliding slowly from Sam's mouth.

To make matters worse she had a feeling she knew what those wisps of gray were as they darted and dodged around the three of them. From what was starting to come more clearly as time passed she realized the only one they seemed to be able to draw anything from was Sam, meager though their pickings were.

"Cernunnos what have you done!?" she called waving away the swarming wisps while checking Sam's vitals. His breathing was shorter and faster, but not just because he was coming up from the tranquilizer, something was happening inside his head, something that was traumatizing him not just emotionally, but with the wound over his hip, and the blood that ran from his mouth, obviously physically too.

_Oh God there has to be something I can do... please... don't let those things feed on him... is THAT why he's been feeling so hopeless? Are THEY doing that? Are they the 'demons' Alex Bentley saw? And Jeremy? Are those Igigi?_ "I gotta do something..."

She scanned the area, hoping to sense hide or hair of her patron deity while she did her best to keep those creatures from Sam, "Dean please!... Wake up! I need your help here!" she called wondering if the dryad would help her, though she had a distinct feeling that they'd been left to fend for themselves.

Beneath her hand she felt Sam's chest rise sharply as he gasped and choked, then broke into a series of coughs that sprayed red freckles on them both. Grasping him by the shoulder and the hip she turned him onto his side, letting the blood flow from his mouth while the faces of the swarming creatures began to smile, drawing ever more and larger tidbits of the young hunter into themselves.

"Cernunnos!" she hollered hoping he was nearby. Since becoming his emissary she'd rarely abused most of the privileges that came with the job, but once in a while she found herself in need of information it seemed only he could or would supply.

"Son of a bitch!..." she cursed feeling wet heat beneath the hand that was bracing the small of his back, "No..." she gasped pulling his t-shirt up at the back where four deep rends like razor slashes had cut his skin wide leaving small but frightening streams to flow into the grass beneath him. _What? He's in there with Freddy Frikkin' Krueger or something? What the hell IS DOING THAT!? _"Oh God Sam... I'm so sorry... I should've known better," _I should've known you were too vulnerable for this_ "...sweetie please forgive me..." she sniffed wondering if there was a way she could help the young man. _Okay... so they're just flesh wounds but... this isn't good... I gotta find a way to stop this... should I give him the other dose? Should I let him come out of it? Make it easier for him to come back... oh God I don't know what to do! Dean... please help me out here... help me help Sam... damnit!_ and she knew what she had to do.

--

Dean stood at the edge of the woods, watching a past version of himself, complete with heavily bandaged hands, wrap a blue and bloodied Laura into a blanket then shuttle her into the backseat of his beloved Impala.

He smiled nodding, remembering how relieved he'd been when he'd felt her presence, when he'd found her. From his position he heard the memory of Sam asking him how he was certain it was really her and not some other Laura from one of the other universes.

"I feel it..." he nodded, smiling once more at his little brother's exhibition of trust.

From the perspective of temporal distance Dean was witness to the true depth of his little brother's faith in him. He could admit to himself that had the situation been reversed, he would have given Sam's instincts the benefit of the doubt, but he would have been hard pressed to let his guard down, at least for a while.

"Thanks Sam..." he smiled to himself and turned as the wind seemed to whisper behind him.

_Something else?_ he wondered feeling a pull he didn't want to resist.

"Sam?" he wondered turning back toward the woods, his eyes well adjusted to the darkness, he dove back into in the trees in search of the sound of his little brothers' voice calling out to him.

--

'_Kay then... just cause they can't see me doesn't mean they can't hurt me!_ Sam realized feeling blood soaking into the waistband of his sweats where one of the demons had clawed him across the back. He swung the machete through its arm while pressing his hand to the wound, testing its depth, gauging its severity. _I can't let this happen! _he thought looking at the Sam who belonged here and was also dripping with sweat and blood as he slid the blade of the ceremonial knife across a demon's throat, the last of them, for the moment finally dispersed.

Journeying Sam slid to his knees, moving gingerly against the ribs one of the demons had fractured when it was thrown into him, casting him aside over the unforgiving edge of a wooden bench. That was when they'd realized there was something tangible there.

"Was that you big brother?" the Sam who belonged here asked as he too took to his knees, but beside Dean's body.

"Woulda been if it coulda been man..." Sam nodded then spat a mouthful of blood onto the dusty earth, "This is NOT good..." he shook his head breathing carefully, slowly enough to keep from sending himself into coughing fits that would only serve to damage him. "Let's get you taken care of... then I can figure out how to get out of here and get back home before something like this happens there..." he nodded at the one sight he never wanted to reconcile. _Dean wouldn't have it any other way... he'd never want to be used as a tool of evil..._ his breath came shaky in his chest and despite knowing this wasn't his home, it wasn't where he belonged, and this Dean hadn't been his, he was shocked by the depth of the loss he felt and the tearing, shearing sensation in his chest. _I'd never let it happen Dean... don't you worry...it's never gonna come to this I swear...I'll never let it. _

He wrapped his hand around the machete handle and slowly pushed himself to his feet, his eyes squinting shut against the burning across his back and hip, the sensation of raw meat ends rubbing against each other with each carefully measured movement. A twist in the wrong direction, a gasp in response and a knife-like stab between his ribs as another mouthful of blood erupted through his throat, making him double over, the rapid movement sending him crashing onto all fours once more. _I might be worse off than I thought..._

--

"Dean, we're stronger together, we always have been... Please... don't do this..." Sam's voice pleaded through the curtain of night as Dean crept through the trees up to the edge of a clearing.

In spite of the darkness he could see both himself and Sam standing face to face, with of all things, the Colt leveled at Sam's chest.

"Don't make me do this Sammy... please..." he heard himself whisper through the tears that slid down his cheeks.

"I wish..." Sam started but shook his head.

"No!... Don't you shoot him!" Dean leaped from the cover of the trees, his legs spitting out ground behind him as he charged forward launching himself when he was just a couple strides away, at his little brother who stood with his head bowed down, awaiting the arrival of the slug that was spinning through space toward him.

Not for the first, and most certainly not for the last time in his life, Dean felt the earth catch him after sailing directly through the image of Sam. _Ouch! Damnit!...I'm freakin' cursed! I couldn't land in a soft spot if I fell in quicksand! Son of a bitch! _he barely thought, unable to stop himself from watching Sam recoil from the shot. Lightning coursed through the youngest Winchester as he fell to his knees and was caught by his big brother.

"Sammy... I'm so sorry... I couldn't let you go... you're my _brother_... my boy...mine!... I couldn't let you go..." he choked looking into the blue-greens that once more belonged to no one and nothing but his little brother.

"...did... good... real good..." Sam nodded, his hand rising one last time to perch between his brother's neck and shoulder. "S'okay..." slid out of him before his eyes caught sight of something neither Dean could see, and fixed on it.

"Sam?..." Dean sniffed, "Oh God... what did I do?... Sammy??" he choked holding tight to the man he'd raised, as from the darkness his little brothers' personal guard emerged with murder in their eyes.

Dean startled, his hands batting away the creature that walked right through where he sat watching his worst nightmare play out. The death, the MURDER of his baby at his own hands, and though he knew it was nothing he could change in the here and now, _wherever the here and now is..._ his mind flew backward on wings that no matter how battered, were all the more brightly colored by the arrival of _his_ Sam into the world.

There were so many things he remembered, so many things he'd never told Sam, never shared with him for whatever reason felt right at the time. Things he didn't want him to feel had been left out of his childhood, because so much had already been stolen from them. Things that might have given Sam more shivers than Hansel and Gretel, that Dean had seen, or experienced, or protected him from. Things that would've made any schoolyard bully 'crap his jammies' as the saying went. There were things he'd done, things he'd said, and threats he'd made and a few he'd carried out that Sam need never know about, just to give him the space and solace school had always provided.

Then there were the times they'd shared, the living room campouts on Friday nights with Son of Svengoolie and Saturday morning Pop Tarts, Lucky Charms, or some other marshmallowy rip on their favorite. There was just something so perfect about those hard sugary blobs wedged deep between the back teeth while the 'cereal' part rubbed the roof of the mouth raw while watching Saturday morning cartoons. _I should've let him know how much all that meant to me... whatever's going on here... whatever I'm supposed to see here... when I get back I'll tell him... I swear I will... _

As he watched the mental image of himself fight the encroaching demons half heartedly, firing the Colt empty, leaving himself wide open far too frequently and far too blatantly Dean knew what this part of him was doing. This was the part of him that could not allow his survival if he lost his boy. He'd make sure he went down fighting, and as he watched with the scrutinizing eye of a football coach reviewing game footage, he watched the minions to the darkness that had consumed his Sam, finish him in the only way that was fitting for the murderer he'd just become. _Wow... man it sucks to be me right now... well him..._ he thought watching part of something that was most likely vital, torn from him and cast aside, a tasty morsel for later scavengers.

When what lay on the ground was no longer recognizable as having once been a human being, Dean rose to his feet, breathed a knee wobbling sigh and forced himself away from the carnage. _Okay then...On to something happy! The first time Mom ever let me hold Sam..._ he thought shambling away from the clearing, back toward the woods where he hoped to find his way home.

"I was four... she made me sit in the 'company' chair, the same one in the picture from the box Jenny found..." he smiled while warmth grew outward, chasing away the chill the visualization of his fears had left behind.

He remembered feeling so tiny in that chair, his legs sticking straight out in front of him, not even able to bend at the knees the seat was so deep. How his heart had trotted so lightly in his chest, his breath short with anticipation and the smile he couldn't stop even if he'd wanted to made him feel like he could light up the world.

"You ready tiger?" John asked grinning at his first born gift as the boy made sure he was all the way back in the chair.

"Hold out your hands sweetheart... one just a little higher than the other..." Mary instructed watching her unusually observant little boy's eyes measure her own posture then duplicate it with himself.

"Like this?" he shined so brightly.

"Perfect... you're going to be the best big brother in the whole world Dean..." Mary lowered herself to her knees, with John giving just a little bit of help. She dropped a kiss on the brown fuzz poking out from the blanket and set it into Dean's lap.

He could feel the heat even to this day, on his lap, against his belly, and in his arms, _Sammy always was a little radiator,_ as Mary let the baby's weight settle onto him and he looked from the brightly colored receiving blanket, trying to figure out where the blanket ended and his baby began.

He started with the shock of satiny brown fuzz on the top of its head, his eyes taking in the face that kept on sleeping.

"Hi Sammy... I'm Dean... I get to be your big brother..." he whispered, not wanting to wake the infant, "I'm gonna teach you everything just as soon as mommy and daddy teach it to me!... and I get to take care of you ... you're my little brother..." he remembered rolling his arms upward, bringing the baby close to him, and God help him, he could even remember the scent of baby magic and mommy that clung to the infant. He kissed that rosy cheek and lowered his arms, mesmerized by the life he held as newborn blue eyes blinked open and met his.

He remembered drowning just a little bit that day, in that moment when the newest addition to the Winchester family looked into his eyes, then yawned and turned his face toward his big brother, sliding back into sleep without a peep.

"I love you Sammy..." he whispered kissing his baby's forehead once more, content to stay in the 'company' chair until mommy and daddy said it was time to go to the park.

--

tbc.

Please R&R

Thanks. sifi.


	7. Chapter 7

Roads – chpt 7

by: sifi

--

_Mmmm... fire pretty... tree bad..._ he thought wondering why it sounded not quite right, he even thought about giggling, there was something about Cave-Buffy that he couldn't deny appealed to him, _Dean would be so proud..._ he acknowledged watching fire consume the body of his big brother with the Sam that belonged here. He was looking into an upright reflection of his own grief, or what his grief would look like if he wasn't nearing delirium for the demonic poison running through his system.

_I'm gonna die after all... kind of a shame... was just getting used to wanting to live again. Oh well..._ he felt something inside him shrug a bit as cold splashed over him, sending a series of shivers up his spine, _...huh... I can't even hear myself ask for help... that sucks..._ he could almost hear Dean's voice in the back of his head add, "...out loud..." then he really did start to giggle.

--

"You ready tiger?" John asked beaming an endangered megawatt smile at his eldest boy who sat stock still, his butt firmly planted on the platform at the top of the slide, his hands on the rails.

"Ready daddy..." Dean nodded opening his arms to receive his now, one year old infant brother into them. He'd long ago grown the strength to hold him on his own, to carry him from the crib Uncle Bobby's sister had loaned them to the couch, or whatever big chair existed in the places they stayed, and though daddy didn't know it, Dean could actually hold Sammy over his head when he laid back on the bed, letting his little brother fly so high like daddy used to do for him when he told him about The Superman who could save anybody from anything. How Dean had wished there really was a Superman who could have saved their mommy from the fire, and that shadow that used to come.

But this was a special day and Dean had promised himself and Sam that he wouldn't think sad thoughts. This was the day Sammy was born, only a year later. Already there had been a special breakfast with just a hint of cocoa-wheat mixed in with Sammy's smushed bananas that Dean had made sure to slide just right into the center of the chocolate chip pancakes pieces. John had been smiling this morning, telling Dean and Sam how mommy had taught him make them without burning them or leaving them half raw. Pancakes were daddy's specialty.

John lifted Sam into the air, his arms and feet flailing, reaching for his big brother the instant he came into sight and a big drooly smile showing the tips of the two teeth that were cutting through the gums.

"C'mon Sam... you're gonna love this!" Dean wiped his little brothers' mouth with his sleeve then turned him to face forward and pulled him tight to his chest. "Hold on Sammy!" he cried gleefully while Sam squealed and clapped as they shot down the slide, Dean stuck out his legs and laughed, secure in John's arms as he gathered up his sons and held them tight, feeling better than he had in months despite the tears of grief and longing that threatened.

"Again Daddy!" Dean grinned, sliding from John's arms, but leaving Sam there while he climbed the back of the slide again, and again, and again.

A shadow slid over Dean's face, though it was of the type that couldn't really be seen in the darkness he trudged, trying to find his way back home.

A sound that night had sent shivers through him in a way very different than the ones of happy warmth that came with Sam's smiles or glee. This sound hurt, it cut hard in a deep place between where Pastor Jim said his heart was, and where the rumbling came from when he was hungry.

He remembered looking over into the crib, the sight of Sam sleeping with his whole hand inside his mouth gave him reason to move extra quietly. He slid out of bed and found a shadow to hide him from view. He knew there was no one there but him and Sam and daddy, he could feel it, his eyes followed the sound to its origin. He remembered feeling wet heat on his face, an almost instant response to the realization that his daddy was crying.

There was no uncertainty in his five year old self as his little legs pumped and he climbed into John's lap, throwing his arms around his neck and burying his face against his shoulder, breathing deep the scent he was so familiar with, the scent that told him that wherever they were was home, as long as daddy was there.

"Don't cry daddy... it was a good day... it was Sammy's birthday today... and he laughed and he smiled so much... and... and... wasn't it good daddy? Wasn't it?" he asked around a tightening throat, while feeling the balloon of warm loving hope trying to deflate a bit in his chest.

"It was a great day Dean... one of the best..." John choked grasping his boy to him, doing everything he could not to let the sobs tear out of him, he didn't want to scare his boy, didn't want him to hurt like he was hurting, but there was no one else there and there was so much he wanted to share with his children, "I just... I miss her so much Dean..."

"Me too daddy..." Dean sighed laying his head on John's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his belly, "... Mommy would've been laughing too... she always laughed when Sammy did... or you..."

John nodded stroking his little boy's hair, wondering how he'd been so blessed with two beautiful sons, and cursed with losing the love of his life, "...and you too little man... nothing made your mother happier than to see you smile!..." he sniffed working hard to gain composure, "She used to say that if she could put the light from your smile into a bottle and sell it, we'd be richer than the electric company..."

"Wow..." Dean breathed with wide jade eyes that came from his mother, "that's rich huh?"

"Yeah..." John nodded with a sob and a smile while he tussled the corn silk hair on his boy's head, "... that's pretty rich alright..."

"Daddy?" Dean asked softly some time later, half reclaimed by sleep despite or because he was resting so comfortably in his fathers' arms.

"Yeah?"

"It was a good day... Mommy would have laughed a lot..." he muttered snuggling down against his father's neck and chest, the almost imperceptible thump of his heart still a comfort to the boy.

"Yeah she would have... and a lot of it because of you son..." he whispered feeling his first born drift off to sleep.

Slowly he rose, returning his eldest to his bed, wondering yet again how he'd managed to miss the humanesque face carved into the talisman he wore against his strong young chest. He was only grateful that as Missouri had said, the nightmares that had plagued his big boy for the first month after Mary's murder were held at bay, and he'd once more allowed Sam to sleep in the crib occasionally. There were still nights when he wanted or needed his baby in his arms, but he was slowly learning it was okay to let Sammy sleep in his own bed. Sharing a room was enough and to give his sons time and room to bond, John didn't mind for an instant sleeping on the couch. Any bed was too big without Mary next to him anyway.

--

_Oooh is this the part where my whole life flashes before my eyes... could use some popcorn... man I'm hungry... ooh some of those rainbow belts would be nice... ahhh Dean would be so proud..._ he thought wincing as another cascade of shivers shook his wounded and fevered body. _I probably should try to get... somewhere..._ he rolled his head around noting the still darkness around him, the ashes of his big brother's body long since blown away by the wind, _...dust in the wind... God I'm sorry Dean..._ he wanted to sob, but it hurt. Not as badly as it had when they were in Eddy Jay's pit, but definitely bad enough. So he lay still and watched some of the moments of his life unfold.

One of his first memories came slowly into focus, both for his mind and his body. He could feel arms around him and warmth at his back. Before his eyes were bound pages with brightly colored odd looking creatures on them. His big brother gently turned his head toward the pages while words tickled his ear, "...see Sammy? One fish..." he tapped the picture drawing Sam's attention back to the page, "...see? One... that's one..." then he tapped the picture below it, "... two fish..." he turned Sam's head again so that he was looking at the page instead of him, "...see?... Sam... look here..." he tapped the page, "two... Sammy... two fish... one, two... see..."

The next thing Sam remembered was squealing in delight as Dean gave chase through the room, his warm strong hands picking him up from the bed where John was snoring loudly, then carrying him back into the front room and sitting down in front of the tv, Sam in his lap, his sippy cup nearby, and the soothing vibration of his big brother humming along with whatever cartoon or jingle was on the screen at the moment while his body gently rocked them both.

Sam felt himself sigh with the memory's inherent comfort. In response he could feel his breathing deepen while his heart beat slowed just a bit. A wave of cool rolled over him but the agony of the shiver it left behind didn't seem so great.

Around him darkness thickened and there was no way for him to be sure if the landscape in this world had disappeared or simply ceased to exist because he was no longer paying it any attention. Something behind and to his right cackled in velvet night, his head jerked toward the sound while his hands felt the ground, seeking the machete he knew was somewhere not far away. _...Coyote? Jackal... no..._ it sounded again just in time to draw from the depths of his memories the scent of corndogs, cotton candy, and far too many bodies pressed too closely together in the pit of summers' heat.

_Uh nuh... not again..._ he groaned inside. Almost all of his life he'd wondered if what was about to come had been a real event or nothing more than a nightmare born of some strange tv show. _I wish it was just a nightmare..._ he finally admitted to himself.

"Dean..." he sighed shivering, rolling himself, every movement a burning, cheese grater agony against his nerves. He rolled into a pocket of warmth created by his own fevered heat, it felt blissful, so much so that when it dispersed as he flopped onto his front he felt genuine longing. He searched the night for the area he thought the machete was in, then sought the area where the other Sam, the one who belonged here and had long since left him, unknowingly behind, had salted and burned his big brothers' body.

"Dean where are you?" he barely breathed having forgotten for the moment.

In his delirium, his fingers clawing the hard, dry ground beneath his chest, he pulled and budged almost an inch before dropping his sweat soaked head down and gasping for breath.

Heavy in the back of his nose corndogs and cotton candy were nearby and his little belly was snarling angrily cause daddy was busy making sure Dean didn't get stomped on by the pony he was riding. It took forever just to get the ponies all filled up, and now they were just starting the ride.

Sam sat on the lowest fence rail, his arms wrapped around the post watching Daddy walk with Dean. He knew Dean wouldn't fall off, his big brother could do anything! and that smell, so warm and sweet with just a little bit of salty in it... his mouth filled with water and his tummy tried to cave in on itself. He waved back at Dean and Daddy then couldn't ignore his hungry any more.

He dashed toward the smell, letting his nose lead him through the sea of legs and stinky people who smoked and almost hit him with their cigarettes cause he was too little for them to notice.

Somewhere to his side a scary Wicked Witch laugh cackled and a pair of legs backed into him knocking him onto his butt. There was hollow sounding music and somewhere nearby, somewhere beyond the sea of legs was shouting and screaming, a dissonance that partly sounded familiar and partly sounded like something out of those movies Dean was just starting to like watching.

Just a little ways further, as he got to his feet, never wondering how he'd managed not to be stepped on, was a big yellow wheel attached to a big red and yellow cart filled with popcorn he could see through the glass.

At last! He made it through the raging stream of hot stinky summer-people and gave chase as the cart moved on, his arms reaching for the legs that pushed it away from him. He could feel the sting of frustration in his eyes while his belly told him he was gonna be sick if he didn't put something in it soon! Or he was just gonna sit down and cry till daddy and Dean were done with the ponies and would feed him. Without meaning to, his growling tummy brought tears that washed his face and to his utter surprise the legs pushing the cart stopped. He remembered the slick feel of satin against his skin as he ran face first into them. Blue and gold shiny slickness made him blink away the tears with the richness of the color in his eyes. Then just as he was starting to want to smile again, a monster blue and white face with yellow teeth, a gaping red mouth and blue and gold horns that jingled on its head leaned down baring its teeth into his startled two and a half year old face.

He remembered the feeling of air sucked out of him, and the hot wetness that messed his almost big-boy underpants and he remembered screaming as strong warmth that was just the right size came from behind him, grabbed him into its arms and shouted in the voice that made everything alright again, "Daddy! I found him!" then one of those hands stroked his hair, "I gotcha Sammy... I gotcha..."

He turned in those arms pressing his face into Deans' neck, squeezing him hard enough to choke him as he tried to escape the harlequin man-dragon's sight. He wrapped himself around his big brother his whole body shaking, his breath hiccoughing in his chest and throat as both he and Dean were hoisted into the air and wrapped in another layer of arms and terrified, furious, relief.

--

"Daddy..." he sighed almost imperceptibly.

--

tbc.

please R&R.

Thanks. sifi


	8. Chapter 8

Roads – Chpt 8.

by: sifi.

--

Thankfully the boys were meticulous about their blades, just as they were with all of their weapons. The tip of it slid in the way of the proverbial, 'hot knife through butter', through the layers of her skin. Her arm extended taut and straight, the knifepoint so sharp the vein didn't budge as it was pierced. She drew the blade upward, one inch, an inch and a half, two inches, until her blood flowed freely and she knew it wouldn't easily stop.

"Dean... please be alright... come back to me..." she sniffed against a cracking inside her heart as she walked, her blood outlining a circle around the youngest Winchester who lay tossing once in a while, fighting some slow poison that had somehow been introduced into his system. The four scratches along his low back were raw and hot with inflammation, oozing an ichor that had to be demonic in origin. She'd done all she could with what was available within the surrounding twenty or so feet. The ravenous Igigi were swarming around the young man, and though they tried, she realized they were not able to feed off of either Dean or herself. It was all she could do for the moment to bring the young hunter as much safety as possible so she could run back to the car for her bag then scour the area for everything she would need.

Fury battled with fear for dominance in her heart. Her mind's eye was unable to see any other alternative as she shook her head seeing it again. Only moments ago she'd checked the young hunter's vitals, his heart beat strong but far too fast for her liking, but when it suddenly slowed and he breathed a deep sigh, fear sunk its jaws into her chest. A routine check was all it had been as she pried up his eyelid and her breath bottlenecked in her throat. _"No..." _she'd literally gasped watching mesmerized a cascade of tiny rolling waves of living dark dust sought a foothold inside Sam, the progress mirrored in the windows of his eyes and leaving little doubt about the nature of the danger he was in. An ancient memory snapped into place and she knew there was only one thing she could do in his defense.

She watched the twisted, mottled gray faces grow furious as she created a barrier around their buffet. Some of them, more than she would have liked, managed to cling to him inside the protection she gave.

"It's always got to be blood..." she sighed watching the gray above her flicker as if lightning were striking behind a bank of clouds, with each flicker she realized the number inside the barrier was decreasing. Something was killing, or banishing them. She breathed a sigh of relief having worried about how she was going to get rid of the incorporeal beings. "I hope that's you Cernunnos..." she sighed when the last of them seemed to disappear. She took a moment to watch the others who were now just as unable to feed on Sam, as they were from her or Dean. "Thank God..." she sighed kneeling at Sam's side, swabbing the rends in his flesh once more then pressing a poultice of goldenseal to the wounds before laying him back and hiking his t-shirt up and over his head. She folded it and lay his head down on it then set about tracing a few of the most potent symbols of protection she knew onto his body with her blood.

When she was done, tears were flowing out of her eyes freely and she was starting to feel a little light headed as she cut through the hem of her t-shirt and wrapped her forearm tightly. She sat back on her heels her hand stroking through Sam's hair while her eyes remained fixed on Dean just a few feet away, the slight rise and fall of his chest the only clue that he was alive, he lay so still.

She leaned down, her mouth at Sam's ear, "...You see that man on the ground a few feet away Sam?... There's nothing on earth he wouldn't do for you... so whatever's going on inside you... you HAVE to fight it... you have to TRY, you have to WANT to come back Sam... You and him... You can't leave him... without you he can't be whole... and I love you both too much to be able to see either of you in that kind of pain... Please come back Sammy... please..." she hitched stroking the sweat from his brow while her lips pressed to his temple. "I'll be back as soon as I can..." she said then went to Dean.

Her hand slid into his pocket retrieving the car keys as she apologized tearfully, "I'm so sorry baby... I never should have brought him here... but I'll fix it... I swear I will... I'll fix it..." she sniffed tasting his lips, hoping for a response but receiving none as she stroked his hair and whispered, "Come home Dean... Sam needs you..."

She shut her feelings down, took a steadying breath, and began the jog back to the Impala.

--

He felt his hackles stand on end while a gentle breeze caressed his neck whispering into his ear, "_...Sam needs you..."_

"Sammy?..." he called into the darkness. He'd been certain he was going in the right direction, returning to the road where he'd watched the three of them head out into the world after Laura's return. "Sam!" he called feeling his heart pick up the pace, _Sam needs me... something's wrong...I gotta get home..._ he shrugged off the sense of meandering exploration that had settled over him after watching his worst fear play out inside his head. The memories of their youth, when John was just starting explore the world of the supernatural, when he worked so hard to balance time with his boys with all of his self education into things that weren't supposed to exist gave the elder son great comfort.

_Aww Sam... I wish you remembered dad before hunting... I wish you remembered all the different ways he showed how much he loved us... before he found monsters under almost every rock... you would have known him like I did... _he thought. The back of his throat tightened at the thought as he started to catalog all the things he wished 'could have been' for his little brother.

"Come on Sam... you can either tell me... or wait till dad gets back and tell him..." Dean stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest watching intensely for the sign that his brother was about to talk.

In just a moment of silent, expectant staring he watched Sam's chest rise and fall with a sigh, then watched his eyes flick to him, the barest hint of movement under those lashes and all that hair, but Dean knew Sam better than the young Winchester knew himself.

"No!" Sam shook his head firmly.

"What?" Dean asked, playing his part.

"No..." weakly this time.

"Okay... then we'll just wait for dad... whatever the problem is... I'm sure he'll fix it."

Sam sniffed then cast another glance at his big brother in the doorway. His chin sunk all the way down to his chest with his, 'I give up' sigh.

"Someone shove you in a locker again?" Dean asked sitting next to him on the bed.

Sam shook his head.

"Toss you in the dumpster?" he asked.

Sam shook his head.

"Well I'm pretty sure you didn't give yourself that shiner Sammy...did you?" he asked grinning, waiting for his little brother to turn his head, roll his eyes and give him that exasperated seven year old look that always tickled him for some reason.

A moment later he was still awaiting, 'the look' and that's when he realized this was bigger than he'd thought.

"Sam?..." he felt his belly crawl with the only possibility left that would keep his little brother chewing his lip, too withdrawn to finally admit to being bullied.

"Sammy?" he dropped down to his knees and pushed Sam's hair off his forehead while raising his face just enough to meet his eyes, "Jenny West hit you didn't she?"

Ever since they'd arrived in this town Jenny West, a cute little blonde haired girl down the street had been demonstrating the intensity of her first crush, which happened to be on Sam, with scary fervor.

Finally Sam nodded, "I HATE her Dean! She's so mean! and I can't hit her back cause then the teachers'll find out that dad's not here! Why does he have to be gone so much!? Why can't he just stay for once! or Why do we have to stay here at all? I mean we always have to go away when we don't want to but now that I want to we're still here!" he yelled drawing his arm across his running nose while his little chest hitched and tears of misery shined down his cheeks.

"Aww Sammy..." Dean thumbed away his little brother's tears, "Listen, you know as well as I do we won't be here too much longer... maybe till Christmas break then we'll be gone somewhere where there won't be Jenny West, just the regular bullies you can go ahead and hit back... and then tell me about so I can hit 'em too..." he smiled and felt Sam chuckle under his hand on his shoulder.

"But?" Sam raised his eyes knowing Dean was waiting for something.

"But...and believe me, I hate to tell you this runt... but you're not a bad lookin' kid..."

Sam nodded, his brow furrowing wondering what kind of trouble Dean had in mind to get them into now, "I know... I know... grown ups love the dimples..."

Dean chuckled nodding, "Yeah they do... but I'm talking about girls here Sam. Sometimes when they hit you it means they like you... and since you ARE fairly decent looking, there's probably gonna be more girls that are gonna crush on you... now hopefully most of 'em won't hit you or anything... but there's gonna come a time when it won't be so bad if a girl likes you..." he explained while watching Sam's mouth drop open, and his brows crease in horror while he shook his head in full denial.

"No..."

"Oh yeah..." Dean nodded knowingly.

"Dean! You..." he shook his head disbelieving, he didn't want to hear this! If Dean knew these things... it could only mean one unthinkable thing... his blackened eye throbbed as he gaped at his brother, "YOU don't like girls do you? You always say how yukky they are! How they never know what they want and they like stupid things like those stupid pink ponies and rainbows and they wouldn't know the difference between a ghost or a ghoul if their life depended on it!" he demanded incredulous.

Dean bit back a smile but half shrugged, "Well all that's true...most of the time..."

"No Dean..." Sam breathed horrified, "...please..."

"Aww don't worry Sam... I'm just saying is all..." he smirked ruffling that long dark mop of hair, "Sometimes girls aren't so bad..."

"... mmm but they don't punch you..." Sam moped, though Dean could see the sunny smile he knew so well trying to peek out from under that frown.

"Come on runt... let's go watch Tiny Toons..." Dean bent down so Sam could climb onto his back for a short ride into the living room, "Y'know you're almost too big for this..."

"Nah... that's never gonna happen..." he scoffed letting go of Dean's neck to flop onto the couch while the elder brother retrieved a bag of snow peas from the freezer for Sam to press to his eye.

"Aahh Sammy... I wonder what you think about those days now?" he sighed, "...course it was just a few months later I almost got killed by that son of a bitchin' ogre..." he shook his head smiling through the darkness toward a small slant of light that he had a feeling might lead him back home where he belonged. "I'm coming Sam... just hold on little brother..."

--

"Dean?" he sighed feeling strong hands roll him onto his back then grasp him under the arms. He felt himself leave the ground and gasped in agony as a shoulder jabbed him in the broken ribs. He tasted blood dripping from his mouth as a steady gait carried him off into the dark.

"...nuh... Dean... s'whahe wans... s'kil'n me...doan...cry n'more..." he moaned tossing his head to the side coughing a clot of lung blood into his mouth where it sat spongy behind his teeth.

"S'okay Sam... I gotcha..." a soft female voice he didn't quite, but thought he should know, said while strong hands rolled him onto his side and a finger swept invasively through his mouth. After the sound of a wet splat somewhere nearby, his tongue finally felt like it fit again and he breathed just a little easier with the scent of woman in his nose, warm and strong, giving him the rest he needed.

A warm faint glow was his only point of reference the next time his eyes opened. Air felt unmoving and somehow closed and beneath him, under a not uncomfortably thin amount of cushion, he lay on something harder than any wooden frame or pallet he could remember.

"Nungh?" he grunted, "...ean?"

"No sweetheart... I'm sorry..." she said softly stroking his hair back.

"...ean!" he grunted more strongly now, his eyes searching the dancing shadows thrown by flame into the dark.

"No Sam... Dean isn't here sweetheart... I'm sorry..." she said sympathetically while mopping his sweat soaked hair back, "... what happened to you baby?... how'd you let one of those slimy little sucks get the jump on you? Huh?" she asked while her lips pressed from his ear down his jawbone to settle atop his.

_I know this taste..._ he realized, pursing his lips against hers just enough to let her know he was in there somewhere.

"...appen'd...?" he croaked trying to focus his eyes on the long dark hair he could see out of the corner of his eye.

"We're still not sure..." she smiled against his mouth, "...as long as you're back here where you belong... I don't give a damn..."

"mmm..." he groaned and shivered feeling his body explode with agony that burned from head to toe, nearly folding him in half with coiling muscles that couldn't be stopped from cramping.

He couldn't help himself and shouted out against the pain, feeling as if his muscles were being drawn fiber by fiber out of his body, and when his howl finished stealing the air from his lungs, his chest joined the spasming, sending waves of coughing through him, blood dribbled from his mouth and finally he was able to escape into unconsciousness.

"_It's almost done..." he said squeezing the warm delicate hand that came into his from the left. He turned smiling gently into her softly shining eyes. His heart swelled with bliss and he couldn't help himself, he leaned toward her, drawing her onto his lap, into his arms. Her mouth descended onto his, her hand stroking his cheek while his slid between her thighs wishing they were in their room, in bed rather than in the main hall with everyone else milling around as well. "I can't wait to slide those jeans off you..." he muttered against her neck, "If I told you I never wanted to see you in anything besides your robe or nothing what would you do?" _

_She smiled, twining her fingers into his hair, clamping her hand into a fist and firmly pulled his head back, warming quickly at the smile that pulled his lips and deepened those dimples she knew so well, "I'd make damned sure you were in exactly the same state, throw you down and take you any way I wanted, any WHERE I wanted..." _

_He felt himself grin as beneath her weight his body stirred, "You are truly a wicked woman..." he stroked the underside of her jawbone with his tongue then pressed his lips to the angle while his hand slid under her shirt. _

"_You wouldn't have me any other way..." she smirked pulling his head to the side once more and capturing his lips with a tiny nip that brought a gasp to his throat and a pull to his groin. _

"_Oh God..." he sighed. _

"_Praying to yourself again..." she sighed turning his head, sliding her lips down the side of his neck until her mouth rested at the joining of his neck and shoulder. "I love you my gorgeous dark God..." she sighed before sinking her teeth into the muscle of his shoulder, drawing a howl filled with amorous agony that set her nerves on fire. _

"_Uh... Mr. Winchester?" asked a pinch faced older woman from the base of the dais, "the prisoners?"_

"_Mmmm" he moaned tasting, relishing, reveling in his woman. There were duties he knew, but after the victory they'd won, the toll it had taken on him, and those who believed enough to follow him, those who CHOSE him to lead them... everyone deserved a rest. There had been too many losses, too many good warriors, fighters, crusaders to the cause, that had been lost in their most recent battle. IT didn't matter that they'd won, they'd emerged victorious against the enemy... he's wondered as the totals and tallies came to him in the night... through the wee hours of the dawn, was it going to be worth it? Was there ANY way to justify the loss of so many good people?_

"Kill them," he ordered barely lifting his mouth from Sarah's for the order to emerge.

--

tbc.

please R&R

thanks. Sifi.


	9. Chapter 9

Roads – Chpt 9.

By: sifi.

--

"You can't do this!" Cernunnos protested watching his emissary set up to perform potent, ancient, blood magicks he wasn't aware she knew.

"Stop me," she challenged not even looking up from the task at hand.

"Laura! This is wrong! This is tampering with things you don't understand!"

"I won't sit by and watch those things feed off him knowing they can't touch either Dean or me!" they yelled.

"Then have him share it with you!" he tried to command pointing at the man she loved, "You KNOW there's nothing he wouldn't give! And in this life they're brothers!"

"He's not conscious right now... and these two are MY responsibility! Protecting them is MY right! MY honor!"

"Your need..." he sighed hanging his head for a second before he started to move again.

"MY need," she nodded still intent on what she was doing. She could feel her patron pacing, she could almost feel his hands twining in the thick dense curls on his head, clasping tightly while he fought himself.

--

Crossing the protective line of her own blood, she entered the circle and straddled the youngest Winchester, the rabbit in her right hand panicking hotly and squeaking its protests while its large back feet sought purchase against anything that would give it leverage to leap free. Memories of her first life swam in her mind as she rested on Sam's thighs. The silver dagger in her left hand plunged into the animal's fragile chest as it screamed its last. _Nope, how many lifetimes later? And I still got the touch. _She smiled and laid the animal on its back across Sam's stomach then raised her face to the sky.

"Thank you for this life, may its sacrifice serve well," she sighed slicing cleanly through the plastic-like rib cage where she removed the heart, squeezing its deep red, almost black blood into a cup that sat near the tiny searing fire she'd built.

She re-traced the protective symbols she'd painted on him with her own blood, now layered by the blood of the sacrifice.

Behind her, an explosion of splintering wood struck her ears while she chanted.

"Emissary!... You will stop NOW!" the dryad called, her voice a cacophony of disturbed magiks.

But it was no use. The chanting had begun, the energies were moving, called into action by memories long thought lost. _Everybody wants me to stop... there's no stopping any of it now... maybe there never was..._ her innermost voice thought while she continued to chant, focusing, drawing, harnessing the energies of the area, preparing her will to be strong enough to bend them to her own desires.

--

Dean could almost feel the warmth of a fire emanating from the shaft of light that slanted, sheathed within the tree branches. A shiver shook him and a fevered voice called to him, pleading.

"Sammy! Where are you?!" he called plunging once more into the darkening green and called again, "... I'm coming Sam! Just hang on..."

The color of molten gold struck a chord inside as he ran through shaft after shaft of mere sunlight, looking for the way to his brother.

"_This way..."_ the wind flicked his ear, his body responded without hesitation.

--

"Easy there tiger... let's not get hasty with the killing now... we have to find out what they're planning don't we?" she smiled against his mouth.

"Sarah... mmm missed you... need... where's Dean?" he groaned pushing against the cushion covered stone pallet, blinking furiously, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "Where am I?" he asked watching the room spin around him.

Sarah breathed deep and let it out in a rush with her head hanging, "Dean is dead..."

"No..." Sam shook his head swinging his legs over the edge of the pallet so he could sit up despite her protesting. Her hands were warm against his skin while he rubbed the sweat from his face with one hand and kept his mouth covered with the other, just in case. "He's not... I'd know..." he muttered behind his hand, hoping his gorge would keep down for another moment.

Her hands closed around his neck, hard and strong as she turned his face so their eyes were held fast to each other, "He's dead Sam... _Dean is DEAD... YOU killed him,_ there was NO choice... he didn't give you one... I know you're still sick, I know you're still fighting the poison..."

"Where's he?" he groaned shaking his head. _There has to be a mistake, Dean isn't dead, I'd rather die than kill him..._ but he remembered a knife, not one of his own, not Dean's and not one of their dad's.

"Fine... you don't believe me?" she half demanded draping his arm over her shoulders and half lifting him to his feet, "Once more into the fray... you know I'd never do this AGAIN for anyone else but you don't you?"

"What?" he asked biting back a cry as his back twisted, his broken rib ends grated together, jagged twigish pieces of bone, catching, scraping and bending pointily, beneath his skin. The rends in his back tore open sharply once more dripping something he didn't think was blood into the waistband of his pants.

"Come on..." she grunted frustrated and turned dragging him with her. His feet refused to respond while his body quaked and his knees buckled, the earth calling him out of her grip. "Fine... lay there... when you're ready to listen to reason... have one of your 'precious' followers come and get me..."

His brows furrowed, one hand reaching for her and the other on the pallet, trying to push himself up, "Sarah?... What's happened to you?" he asked wondering what happened to the strong and lovely, yielding woman he'd thought could rescue his wounded heart.

"What's happened to me?... To ME? Oh that's rich Sam... coming from you?!" she stalked forward leaning over him, " 'Come with me...' you said, '...we can be together forever and never have to be alone again...' You said...and I did! I did Sam! In for a penny in for a pound! I LOVED YOU! I came because I Loved YOU, not your damned crusade! but again... in for a penny, in for a pound... '...give me your SOUL to cherish forever!' you begged me Sam... you BEGGED me on your KNEES to give my soul to you... and I DID! and what did you do with it? with me?... and you wanna know what the worst of it ALL is? Huh Sam do you?!..." she crouched before him, her hands, one on his neck the other behind his head, her eyes driving into his and through them into his heart like blazing steel spikes. She captured his mouth, she bit and tore his lip in her teeth, she tasted his blood and held him against her sobbing breast, "I STILL love you, you son of a bitch..." then she fled.

"Sarah!" he reached forward but never felt his face hit the stone floor.

"_You're weak..."_ he heard while his body lay unconscious.

_No... I'm stronger than I know..._

"_You're weak Sam... you've never been strong, you've always been the weak link in the Winchester chain... but I can help..." _

_Who... what are you?_

"_I'm part of you, I'm the deep dark heart of you... I am the strength you turn your back on..."_

_Mmm yeah, I don't think so... you're probably some demon that's just trying to screw up my mind... or mmm hmm yeah... delirium... brought on by fever... sure... that's it... hee, nice try... _but he remembered the razor-like cuts in his low back, even in unconsciousness he could feel them pulsing, hot and rancid, his flesh decaying for the poison. _Eeew... creeping demon crud... that's just gross..._

"_Look back Sam... look back at your life... look at what your brother and father had, how well they worked together, side by side while all you wanted to do was be normal... you didn't want to fight... you didn't want to hunt... you turned your back on that part of yourself... on ME..." _

_Good try... wanting 'normal' was a gift! It was a luxury my brother gave me with every sacrifice he made, every time he stepped up to the plate so I didn't have to, every time he got dad to let me stay behind to do my schoolwork... Dean LOVED hunting, he LOVED dad and he LOVES me... there's nothing he wouldn't do for me... he's proven it time and time and time again... _

"_Can you say the same? You abandoned him... you know that's how he feels about how you left for college, you felt me coursing through you then didn't you... even if it was just a tiny little scratch of my surface... you felt that strength you needed... that part of me that you deny... In the end... I am all that might be able to stand between your brother and death..." _

_Liar._

"_Am I?"_

--

"I didn't want this for you! It's too soon... you don't understand! You can't do this, you can't do this... I can't let you do this... he has to... it has to... please stop..." he dropped to his knees before her, watching reluctantly, his expression a twisted mix of helplessness and pain. He watched his emissary wince prying open the edges of a deep cut in her forearm. Her arms were shaking, fingers working tremulously to grasp and hold objects, to do what she was doing. To give what she was certain to need in the days to come, the battles to come, if after this she lived to see them at all.

"He has to _what_? and what... 'IT'?... is _it_ the demon? is _it_ the marauder that's coming? The one that tore apart an entire universe as a test run of its power? The one that..." her throat closed when epiphany struck, while above them the late afternoon sky swirled with ribbons and rivers of bobbing and darting Igigi, "No... it didn't?..." she finally choked. She looked between the invaders into her world and the young man on the ground whose torso was painted in swirls and Celtic knots drawn in her blood upon his skin. _No, God no... he had to have found out, he had to have... sensed it somehow... is THAT why he was so close to..._ the image of him sitting on the edge of his bed with his gun pressed deep into the underside of his throat, his face tearstained as he struggled either to squeeze the trigger or to keep from doing so, she didn't know. The image was slow to fade and she shivered, also remembering how his entire body shook, literally racked with the agony she hadn't understood, as she held him until he succumbed to exhaustion.

"We think so..." Cernunnos nearly whispered, his chin to his chest.

"All the more reason to give him some protection!" she shouted flinging her arm out at the man she loved as a brother, loosing a squirt of blood over them both.

"What do you think you two are for!? HE is the foundation!" the God of Fertility and Rebirth barked motioning to Dean, "HE is the _everything_ upon which..." he motioned to Sam, "_He_ will build!"

"Yeah, I know, I KNOW! and Who the hell is WE? You been confabbing with the Powers that Be? Huh? What's left to hide?" she yelled barely able to control her fury. Red hot fire danced in her temples while white blunt cuts seemed to tear through the central line of her skull. Her neck creaked with each motion and her hands felt like little more than muffled, mittened stumps at the ends of her arms. _If I stuck my hand into the heart of the fire would I feel it?_ she wondered, actually fighting the urge to find out.

"I CAN'T TELL YOU THAT!" Cernunnos yelled back, his voice layered atop hers, the mournful sound of a plea drawing her eyes away from the couple ounces of molten gold glowing in the iron cup set deep into the nearly white glowing coals of the fire.

"Then I guess you really have no need to be here do you?" she hissed watching as he worked the once more severed ring of gold that was never supposed to be removed by anyone but the patron deity who bestowed it.

His fingers flew deftly over the metal, stretching it, smoothing it once more, drawing from its girth the length to replace what she'd cut and melted for the young hunter.

Cernunnos knelt at her side, his hands once again drawing the torque around her neck, putting it back where they both knew it belonged. "Would you like it flat or do you like it round?" he asked with a kindly smile.

"Didn't know I had an option..." she grinned taken aback by the question. She touched his cheek tenderly, "The way it's supposed to be is perfect, thank you."

He closed the torque and watched her try to steady her fingers enough to draw out of a sand mold she'd made, her own key fob that had a representation of the Tree of Life on it. Her breath trembled in her throat and her chest rose shakily as she reached for it once more.

_She's giving him so much... please... know when to stop..._ he thought desperately and removed the fob from the mold for her.

Laura nodded tilting her head to the side, her temple to his forehead. She picked up the other side of the mold and began carving a simple shield knot. This was the simple part of what needed to be done to protect their future. _There's still so much to do... and I'm so tired..._ she thought.

--

"...you BEGGED me on your KNEES to give my soul to you... and I DID! and what did you do with it? with me?... and you wanna know what the worst of it ALL is? Huh Sam do you?!..." Dean watched her crouch before his baby brother, her hands, one on his neck the other behind his head, her eyes driving into his before she captured Sam's mouth then bit and tore his lip in her teeth. He grimaced watching her relish the taste of his blood then watched her hold him against her sobbing breast, "I STILL love you, you son of a bitch..." then she fled.

"Sarah!"

He saw Sam reach forward, and winced as his little brother's hard head bounced off the stone floor.

"Well that's gonna leave a helluva goose egg...Poison? Son of a bitch..." he grunted pushing once more against the edge of the light shaft he stood within.

"Don't you listen to her Sam! You hear me?!... Don't you listen to her this isn't you! This isn't your world! Listen to _me_... remember the Adrienne Stevens case? The dryad? Come ON Sammy! You're not here! We're not here...we're in the woods by the Dryad's tree! Safe and sound... Laura's lookin' after ya... cause that BITCH knocked me out TOO!"

He looked around his wall-less prison and wondered if this was what Sam had felt while trapped inside the gatekeeper's... gatehouse while it used his little brother's visage to draw their pain and doubts out into the world.

"I gotta get out of here... I gotta get back... we gotta figure out how to get him out of here..." he muttered to himself and checked his watch. He expected to find the time static but instead the watch was faceless and handless and no indication of any type of time keeping mechanism. "Okay I get it!" he barked pounding on the barrier yet again.

"Damnit! Sammy! Come ON! Open this freakin' thing so I can get us out of here! We gotta get home Sam! Come on!" he shouted pounding his fists against the barrier that kept him infuriatingly from his brother.

In time he slid to his knees, gazing helplessly while the man he raised lay alone on a cold stony floor, bleeding from wounds whether real or imagined, that needed tending but remained neglected.

He had no way of knowing how long he sat there waiting, willing himself to be able to move through, break, or somehow escape the impenetrable. A rapid rise and fall, almost the buck of a cough through Sam's back snatched his attention back to the moment.

"Sammy?" he asked softly and blinked several times in quick succession. He saw the impossible before him as from the back of his baby brother, rose another. A shade of Sam or another one entirely he didn't know. There was no way he could know.

The second Sam moved stiffly, as if he expected pain with motion. He was dressed in sweats and the same t-shirt they'd brought him to the grotto in. This Sam glanced over the room, his eyes stopping on a slant of light against the corner of the wall. He cocked his head and took a step forward.

"Sammy?! Sam!" Dean pounded and got to his feet, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Dean?" Sam questioned wondering if it was a trick of the light that made him think he was seeing his brother. "... mmm said you were dead... I killed you..." he looked back at the Sam lying on the floor, "..well maybe it was him..." he smacked his lips together a few times, squinting at the shaft of light and shadow that seemed to hold his big brother. "I feel terrible..."

"You look like crap... can you get through this thing?" Dean asked watching Sam shrug.

_Must still be the tranquilizer... I can't remember the last time I saw him like this... _

He jerked his head back as his little brother's hand unexpectedly penetrated the barrier, nearly poking him in the eye. There was no hesitation as he grasped Sam's hand and pulled, bringing the young hunter through the unseen wall without a sign of resistance.

"Hey Dean... I thought I killed you..." he squinted at the older man in front of him and smiled loosely. He draped his arms around his big brother and lay his chest to his shoulder, his head turned to look back the way he'd come and he saw a version of himself on the floor.

"Am I dead?" he asked.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Dean smirked hugging him back firm and fast before steadying him on his feet and turning back the way he'd come this time with his baby in tow. _Always gonna be my kid... always Sammy... my brother...(son)...mine._ Hand in hand Dean led the way as Sam stumbled drunkenly in his bony bare feet through the dense foliage.

"...kay... glad you're not dead... are you evil?" Sam asked.

"No, just mischievous... you?"

"Mmmm non't think so..." he slurred scrunching up his features in an attempt at genuine contemplation. "...could be... maybe... maybe not..." he giggled stumbling forward, over a fallen branch, his chest colliding with Dean's back. He grunted a tight whine in the back of his throat as Dean turned to catch him.

"Easy there tiger..." he smiled, righting the taller man beside him then draping one of his arms over his shoulder in an effort to keep him walking forward without incident. _Is this really you Sam? Am I making a mistake here? Was THAT the real you?... I need a sign..._ he thought. "Hey... hey... Sam..." he stopped and faced his brother, looking at the blood that colored his forearm, "... hold it... you're hurt... how'd you get hurt?" he asked leading the young man to a tree where he made him lean while he raised up the back of his shirt wincing at four parallel festering slashes in his skin.

"One of your... my..." he stopped for a second, thinking, bobbing his head back and forth, trying to make sense of the things he'd seen, "...well one of our... minions... dude you gotta show me that yoga thing again... that was kinda soothing..." he smiled tightly, the movement becoming a wince as his knees buckled and he slid down the tree, his heart thumping in his ears, consciousness wavering.

"Sam?... What's goin' on? Talk to me... what's happening to you Sammy?" Dean knelt in front of him, holding him up at the shoulders.

"Mmm tired... weak..." he mumbled.

"No Sam... come on, tired okay... weak? Never... come on little brother... be strong with me now... we're gonna get you home, get you back into your body... or out of your head... or wherever that... wherever we are okay?... Come on now... You can do this Sam... for me, just this one thing okay?" he cajoled softly, his hand sweeping aside his little brother's sweat soaked hair, searching his fevered eyes for some hint of understanding.

"Come on now... please Sam... please..." he breathed watching closely, relief misted his eyes as Sam cracked open those blue greens and nodded, grasping his big brother's shoulders to push himself to his feet.

"Atta boy... there you go come on...I gotcha Sam... I gotcha..." Dean's words shuddered gratefully through his throat as they slowly continued their trek.

--

"...ye guardians of the watchtowers of the North..." she started to trace the circle of her blood from the inside, but continued onward until a new circle, encompassing both Winchester men was drawn. She traced this new ring, thrice around widdershins, dipping her fingers into the cup and casting off the bloody elixir of combined elements, of sacrifice taken and given, as each of the guardians were called upon, "... fortify his heart and mind against the evils that seek to pervert your servant... in the name of all that is right and just..."

Behind her the dryad stood stock still, its mouth agape as it watched the not-quite-human draw down powers that terrified the tree spirit.

As she started the final circle, a few feet away her beloved Dean began to stir. She could feel his eyes trying to flutter open and knew that Sam would soon follow. She wished Cernunnos had remained, but understood that he could no more watch her struggle to control such intense energies than she could watch the boys try to juggle fire.

"Tell me... am I right?" she'd asked without looking at him, "... that whole thing... everything they did to Sam? Everything that THING did to us back there... it was orchestrated?"

"Yes."

"What about this? What they're going through now? What I'm doing? has all this been orchestrated too?" she asked and felt him smile against her jawbone.

Cernunnos sighed and ran his fingers through her hair, "Ours is a universe of choice... there is nothing and no one person more important than keeping it that way. His advance legions are here now, they will pave the way for the destruction of that God given gift. This is our last battlefield," he divulged.

"...and the three of us? What if Sam chooses not to come back? or what if he chooses to give in to his darkness?" she asked, "... if that happens, we lose not only him, but Dean as well..."

"...and you soon after..." he sighed, "... this isn't the first time these choices have been made, nor will it be the last..."

"That's wishful thinking... but yeah... the cycles... we've all played the game before..." she nodded, "but never with stakes this high Cernunnos... this is the whole UNIVERSE we're talking about here..."

He nodded, "...which is why you need to NOT do this..." he pointed to the makeshift smelting pot and mold, and all the ceremonial implements she'd gathered around to perform the ritual that would not only share her immunity to the Igigi with the young man, but change all three of them in the end.

"If he ever finds out where his abilities come from... you know what it'll do to him...He may as well slice himself open and wait for the vultures to descend! Look at how what... look at what just happened and how it affected him? For God's sake!" she whispered harshly, glancing back at him as he moaned and tossed his head to the side. "I won't let him be some demonic tug toy! not if there's anything I can do about it..."

Almost in response, a few feet away Dean too tossed his head, the first genuine movement she'd seen in hours as, "Sammy..." slipped from his lips.

Cernunnos shook his head, "We both know the power itself has no will... it is the will of the one who wields it that determines..."

"Yeah _we_ know that... but he _might_ not believe it! and if that Yellow Eyed son of a bitch has anything to say about it... he WON'T believe it!"

"All he has to do is trust himself and he will know it isn't so... or trust _that _one..." he motioned to Dean, watching her pour the molten blood-gold into a small hole in the top of the mold she'd made. The smell of hot metal filled the air, but inside the mold, it cooled quickly.

Sweat slid in sheets down her face and neck, as the two pieces fell open revealing a protective pendant for the young hunter. She smiled and shakily flaked off the hardened spillage, collecting it carefully in a cup.

"Please..." Cernunnos pleaded once more watching her crush some of the necessary herbs, or squeeze out the steepage from others, mixing it with the gold flecks, for the second half of the ritual.

"Will it hurt him?" she asked, _everything else I've done has just screwed all this up... what if he's right? But it's such a simple purpose... it can't hurt him... can it?_ she thought casting another glance at Sam.

"No... it won't hurt him," he shook his head rising to his feet and guiding her to hers, "I can't watch you do this..."

"Will he be alright if I don't? Will he be able to fight them off if I don't do this? Will he survive? or come back? He's already wounded! He's already fighting some kind of demon venom while one of them takes hold inside him... WITHOUT HIM THERE TO FIGHT IT!... will he survive THAT if I don't do everything I can to try and help him? You think a simple exorcism is going to be able to get rid of one of those bastards without him there to help force it out?!" she demanded shaking, terrified, exhausted, and collapsing under the weight of her part in the young man's pain. "I gave up my _brother_ because these boys NEED to be here! I won't turn my back on him! I won't let them fight this without giving everything I can... and you shouldn't ask me to."

"You gave up your brother to give him peace..." he corrected smiling gently before he touched her cheek and turned to disappear into the woods.

--

tbc.

please R&R.

Thanks.

sifi


	10. Chapter 10

Roads – Chpt 10.

By: sifi.

--

"_Faster... you must move faster..."_ the whispering wind tickled his ear once more, the same one that had drawn him to his brother in the first place, the one that made it possible for him to find again the best part of his life.

"I'm trying..." he gasped feeling a familiarity with the whisper despite its urgency.

"_They will kill you all..."_ it urged then fell away.

"Son of a bitch..." he groaned stopping and facing Sam, "... we got trouble little brother, something's wrong outside here..."

"Go... I'll rest... jus'slow'n y'down... weak..." Sam sniffed sadly, his eyes watering while his chin wobbled, and his body rocked on his feet as he shook his head back and forth, his despondence palpable.

"Would you knock it off with the 'weak' talk! You're one of the strongest people I know Sam! You're..." Dean gulped then took a deep breath to fight the crushing feeling in his chest, the one that came whenever Sam had a pain he couldn't fix, "...I am NOT leaving you behind! Now listen to me..." he grasped him under the chin, "I'm gonna pick you up... it's gonna hurt those ribs like hell but I need you to just hold on... we're not far from..." _where we are... boy that sounds weird..._ "...where our bodies are..." _yeah that sounds better,_ "I need you to just hang on for a little bit okay?" he watched Sam's eyes close and his head loll back loosely on his neck.

"Sam!" he grasped his chin again waking him up just enough, "Sam... just hold on..." he said softly, adjusting his position to get his gigantic little brother into a fireman's carry on his undamaged side.

"No... Dean... it says I'm weak... leave me here... I'll wait... you go... save th'day superman...used t'fly me so high... 'anks..." he sighed with a smile so sad it brought a sting of tears to Dean's eyes.

"Sammy! Listen to me!" he barked through the choking feeling in his throat, "We're gonna have a long ass, long overdue talk when this is over you little... jerk..." he shook his head, one hand on Sam's arm, the other between his legs as he ducked down, "just hang on tiger... I'll get us home..." he grunted straightening and shrugging his brother's weight more evenly over his shoulders. He moved as gently as he could knowing each movement was probably a screaming agony for Sam, especially with those broken ribs, the only good thing was that he seemed to have passed out just about the same time Dean draped him over his shoulders.

" '_IT_ says I'm weak...' he said...man I hope I brought the journal with... a quick exorcism to make sure you're not possessed and we're all good Sam... course that's after we stop whatever's going on up there... up there? Out there? I really hate this head-trip crap... and I am NEVER kissing a Dryad again!" he promised himself as the sound of a stream came to his ears.

--

Wind stirred strongly with the gathering energies through the Dryad's grotto, plants stood taller, flowers exploded into bloom, grasses shot into the air and the swaying whip-like branches of her willow reached toward the cone of power.

"NO! Emissary!" the pipe-like voice screeched, the opal eyes glowing scarlet with rage and fear. It turned, its mouth open in horror watching the leaves of its home nearly explode from the branches, lanceolate, serrate leaves of soft sage green strained to impossible size, crumbled and dropped off, replaced in a frenetic burst of new buds that followed the same course, generation after generation while the Dryad screamed her rage and flew toward the Emissary, her knobby wooden fingers little more than outstretched talons. Eddy's of wispy white static churned ceaselessly creating a white veined impenetrable wall, the summoned power proved too great for the woodland creature who was flung with a piercing shriek across the stream, deep into the woods on the far side.

Dean felt the weight of his body around him as his eyes blinked open searching for the first person that always came to mind.

_Sam... come on Sam... get up in there dude..._ he thought noting his younger brother's inert form on the ground.

As Laura came into view he started pushing himself reluctantly upwards until he was sitting on the grass and the melee around them intruded on his awareness.

_s'goin' on?_ he wondered watching his girl grasp his brother behind the head, raise his torso up and despite the oddly dark sky Dean could see Sam's eyes open, "That's my boy..." he grinned then frowned just as quickly as she tried to put a cup to his lips.

"What're you doing?" he croaked with a dry throat, his eyes saucer wide as Sam's hands closed on Laura's throat and his body rose to its full height, holding her an easy foot off the ground by her neck. "Sam!..." he barked pushing himself to his feet in a half stumble toward them.

"No..." he gasped drawing himself up short as black within black eyes glanced at him from his little brother's face. From this angle he could see Laura's mouth moving though he couldn't hear what was being said, and despite the darkness, shocks of lightning crackled all around them enabling him to make out things that had been drawn on his brother.

_I know that symbol... and that one... that one's my symbol... well Enki's sign... those are all protection... but how the hell is he...? Did I bring that back? _his thoughts moved with the swiftness of the strobing lightning all around them. He was mesmerized by the sight of Sam's body throwing his head back and howling. The symbols drawn on his skin, _I'd venture to bet that's NOT edible body paint..._ in blood, shimmered a faint silver, then white as the thing inside his little brother bent his head forward, teeth bared with sinister savage intent. Laura's arm came up, she tilted the contents of the cup into her mouth then cast it aside, wrapped her legs around Sam's waist, broke his hold on her neck, grasped him by the head and pressed her mouth to his.

Dean felt his eyes widen in shock as she kept herself connected to Sam, the slightest hint of something dark and viscous drawing a line from the corner of his mouth, down his chin as whatever she'd put into hers was being transferred to him. He moved and bucked, enraged, his hands and arms trying to pry her off of him as at the outer edges of the silvery shimmering circle on the ground the winds were seeming to slow. The willow branches gave up their questing reach, sliding naked and leafless toward the blackening shriveling trunk. Across the stream a screech could be heard that made a lullaby of nails on a chalkboard.

Everything outside the circle, the gigantically grown grasses, the impossibly large and out of season flowers, crackled a dry rubbery sound as the limbs of the local flora curled blackening back on themselves, crumbling with a finality that had nothing to do with the sleep of winter. _They're dying... all of it..._ he noticed looking around, watching his brother's body stumbling through its last throes, his girl still clinging to him unrelenting, her mouth against his, _...except what's inside the circle... she really did it... there hasn't been...oh God what did you do Laura?_ he breathed deep, once more feeling the sting of tears in his eyes.

Sam crumpled to his knees, losing consciousness once again as Laura lowered him onto his back on the patch of still lush grass. She drew her mouth from him, her lips pressed tightly together and turned toward the sound of a hitched breath behind her.

"What did you do?" he shook his head, his hand reaching toward her while the tears that filmed his eyes magnified them in the returning light of late afternoon. "Sam?" he sniffed moving toward them. His hands twined in her shirt and he pulled her onto her tip toes, "What did you do!" he demanded into her black within black eyes. Before he knew it she was gone.

Torn out of his grip by the powers of a furious Dryad finally able to penetrate the last remnants of the ancient spell still traveling the path of the protective line, Laura crashed into the trunk of a nearby tree.

The woods spirit stalked toward her, its eyes white with fury, Laura took to her feet, and cocked her head to the side smiling cruelly.

"You should have stayed on the far side of the stream..." she sneered.

Sam pushed himself up on his elbows, his face twisted with confusion and curiosity as Dean dashed back from the cover of the woods wrapping what looked like his t-shirt around a tree branch.

"Dean? S'goin' on?" he asked groggily.

"Aawha Sammy! S'at you? You alright now?" Dean asked gazing hard into Sam's puzzled eyes while he dug into the last embers of the fire Laura had, so he could make his torch.

"Yeah... feel like hell but... is that my shirt?!" he asked looking down then back at his big brother, his expression almost horrified, "Why am I covered in blood? and Why are you making a torch out of my shirt!" he half demanded pushing himself up to his knees now as Dean ran toward the head of the stream.

From behind he could see the forest creature bending forward, the color of its skin, or bark changing... glowing... turning to white ash at the edges. He caught sight of the genuinely evil smile on his girls' mouth and shuddered with the realization. The dryad was burning, from the inside, outward... and it was because of whatever evil she'd taken from Sam into herself. _Yeah... this is gonna stop... pretty much right now..._

"Hey Dryad!" he called sharply, drawing the sprite's attention as well as Laura's to him, while Sam's attention was drawn to them as he backed toward his brother.

"S'goin' on Dean?" he asked.

"Plenty," he muttered, "Laura... don't you do it! Don't you give it that kind of power!" he urged then shifted his focus to the woods spirit, "Can your tree come back if it's consumed in fire?!" he asked.

"Is she possessed?" Sam asked trying to get a good look at Laura from this distance, "And what the hell are those...oh no... Dean I see them..."

"Yeah she's possessed... I think I brought it back with us..."

The Dryad turned away from Laura, its hands outstretched toward the human who held killing fire at the husk of her home.

"Chosen..."

"Can you heal it?" he asked.

"Yes..." she piped slowly, straightening as the fire within her appeared to subside. Apparently as long as she was not threatening Laura, she seemed to be able to fight the call to kill the woods spirit.

"Sam start getting our stuff together..." he instructed.

"Dean we can't just leave..."

"That's exactly what we're going to do..."

"No... we have to find a way to stop those things!"

"What things?" Dean asked.

Sam waved his hand at the swirling darting shades in the sky, those creatures that poked their twisted angry little faces at him, at Dean, and even at Laura who'd descended to her knees, the evidence of her possession easily visible now that the ritual was done, and day's light returned to the sky with the completion of the magiks she'd wrought.

"Those things! They're Igigi Dean... can't you see them?" Sam asked, hoping he hadn't gone completely insane, everything felt topsy turvey enough right now when the last thing he remembered was pressing the muzzle of his gun into his chin, and he wasn't sure but he thought he could taste blood in his mouth again, and his body hurt as if he'd been beat to hell and back.

"Take your tree... heal your grotto here and we'll take our little demon over there and leave..." Dean offered.

The Dryad cocked its head to the side wondering if it should let them leave.

"It's the only deal you get besides us burning this whole place down," he added.

Slowly the tree-creature nodded and moved through the foot deep pile of generation's worth of leaves that littered the ground toward her grievously wounded home.

"I'm sorry..." Dean tossed the torch into the stream as she backed into the trunk of the tree, her eyes bright emerald green with a hint of orange glow in their depths.

When she was safely tucked into the bole of her tree Dean looked back toward his girl who lay on her back, her body rigid.

"Laura..." he sighed with Sam at his side as they darted to her and Dean grasped her to his chest.

Sam cast a glance at the sky, the Igigi were circling like vultures, they seemed to be waiting for something. It was almost as if Sam could feel something monumental about to happen, something was about to come to light but what purpose it could serve he didn't know.

"Come on honey... you gotta fight this bastard okay? Come on... I gotcha..." Dean stroked her hair from her face, her eyes were still wide, and still black on black. If it weren't for the heartbeat he could feel in her throat he might think she was dead.

A second later is when Sam saw it.

He wasn't sure at first, but when the first bit of dark dust emerged from her mouth followed quickly by a second he had to react. He shoved his big brother away, letting the woman's head down on the ground as easily as possible while keeping Dean back, away from the eruption of demon smoke that came next.

Both Winchester men watched the bilious column of smoke roll into the afternoon sky, but only one saw what happened next that sent shivers up his spine as the circling Igigi pounced, their mottled wretched faces twisted with glee as they fed on the demon in its purest form.

"What the hell..." Sam breathed watching the last motes of demon dust devoured by these creatures, unable to decide just what to make of it all.

"What the hell what?" Dean asked eyeing the sky, seeing only that the demon smoke was gone.

"She alive?..." he looked at his big brother who was checking his unconscious girls' pulse.

"Yeah..." Dean breathed obvious relief.

"Let's get the hell out of here Dean..."

"We gotta grab our stuff..." he and Sam gathered up the tools she'd brought, Sam's brows furrowed as he took in some of the tools and saw the remnants of the mold on the ground.

He checked the ground and felt in his pockets, his hand closing on a small square that hadn't been there when he'd put those sweats on the night before.

"Dean..." he stopped and held out his hand, looking with his big brother at the talisman in his hand, on one side was a tree of life, on the other a Celtic shield knot that matched the one drawn in blood on his chest, over his heart. "Dude... give me one of your shirts will ya?"

Dean shrugged out of his flannel, gazing at his little brother's curious expression, "What're you thinking?"

Sam sighed buttoning up the shirt, "Thanks...I'm thinking... what the hell went on here? I'm covered in protective symbols... and betting this ain't edible body paint it's drawn on me in...I have no idea how we got here... what we're doing here... the last thing I remember..." he flushed deep crimson, the feel of the cold steel against the soft underside of his chin, just behind his jaw, angled with perfection for a bullet to pierce through and shatter the midbrain, severing the beginnings of the bundle of nerves that eventually give rise to the spinal cord.

Dean spocked his eyebrow at Sam, wondering how much he would say, how much he would or wouldn't divulge just yet. _He may not know what went down in there... in the Dryad's little realm of possibilities, but I do, and we ARE going to talk Sam..._

When it was clear Sam wasn't going to say much more at the moment Dean shrugged motioning toward all the supplies she'd compiled, "She's been a busy girl..."

"Yeah..." Sam nodded, his brows furrowing. He followed a circle of blood on the edge of the dead grass, then caught sight of the second one and started to pat himself down. "Do you have any cuts or punctures or anything on you Dean?" he asked.

"Not that I've noticed..." he shook his head grimacing while he used a handful of grass to clean out the cup she'd cooked her concoction in. A glimmer caught his eye and he held it up to the waning sunlight. He wasn't sure but he thought it might be a flake of gold. Shaking his head with his stomach giving him twisty queasy sensations he stuffed the grass into the cup and shoved it into the bag, _Whatever she did it was potent as hell..._ he admitted wondering just what effect channeling the kind of energy that could kill a hundred square yards of forest would have on a human being.

"Then it all came from her..." he motioned to Laura with his head.

"And bugs..." Dean pointed to the evidence of small animal slaughter within the smaller circle.

"Whatever she did... I can see them... and they eat demons."

--

End.

--

**EPILOGUE**

Sam moaned, Dean's eye flicked away from the dimmed computer screen into the darkness where his brother's head twitched against his pillow. Next, they slid to his own bed where Laura lay in exactly the same position he'd placed her six hours ago.

His head swam with information, he hadn't been able to find much on line but the scanned text from some of Bobby's books, and some of Alex Bentley's confirmed many of his suspicions. _I don't give a damn about any of it though if it hurts the only thing's I've got left in the world. It's not worth it! Let their armies take each other out... if I KNEW... she said she wasn't sure they're just demons... well... either way something big is coming soon. If the Igigi are the Marauders troops... but I SAW demons leave those dog-things... is THAT what Igigi are in another dimension? But Sam said he saw them EAT the demon she drew out of him... great deemonic cannibals... fan frikkin tastic... two warring demonic factions and us stuck in the middle... but why Sam? Why US?_

He looked back at his brother, the corner of his mouth twitched and grew into a smile as he crossed his arms over his chest, closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, remembering it all again. _MINE... God I'm a possessive bastard...yeah well... I don't have much to hold onto anymore so I have to hold what I've got..._

"Dean..." Sam sighed rolling onto his stomach a second before his head snapped up and he bolted up wide awake.

"Sam?" Dean asked watching the lanky young man drag a chair to the table, his eyes already scanning the text on the screen.

"Mmm a genuine Cone of Power..." he yawned cracking open the half pint of Jack that sat next to a bag of Oreos in the middle of the table and swigging from it.

"Yeah... not that Occult Book shop Daily Wicca crap either..." Dean took his own swig then set the bottle down.

"Heavy stuff... think she'll recover?" Sam asked.

"Yeah... no telling how much it sucked out of her though... you missed most of it but..." Dean shook his head.

"I saw the aftermath..."

"You remember anything?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, not sure what it all means though... well, except for one thing..." Sam nodded stuffing a cookie into his mouth and washing it down with another swig of whiskey.

"What's that?" Dean asked already knowing Sam was gonna have a bellyache in the morning. Sugar and whiskey was never a good combo for his little healthy eating brother. He snatched the half pint out of Sam's hand and thrust a bottle of water into it instead, "There's milk in the fridge," he smiled.

"And a box of Lucky Charms..." he noticed sitting on the small refrigerator, "What gives?" he grinned.

"What's the one thing?" Dean asked leaning back and swigging from the bottle.

"Gonna sound crazy," he watched his big brother half shrug, "... I think yoga-you was right... it's less about the destiny but more about how we use it..."

"Y'know that's the second time you've mentioned yoga... it's getting a little disturbing... still... it was me sorta so being the big brother..."

"He's...you're... always right... I know I know..." Sam nodded smiling softly, his eyes either on the computer screen or on his hands. His chest hitched and he swallowed back half the water in his hands then reached for the whiskey once more. His big brother watched his every move, studying him as he drained the bottle then flicked his eyes at Dean who sat patiently waiting.

Long moments later he nodded and took another shaky breath, "No matter where I was, no matter what I was seeing... evil you, evil me, soulless Sarah... yoga you was good... we were both good and it was right, the way it's supposed to be... on the same side y'know?..." he sniffed, droplets plinked onto his clasped hands, "... everything good Dean... everything good that I _can_ do, that I _will_ do, every good fight WE fight... every bit of strength I ever had comes from you...everything you've ever done for me... the sacrifices..." he choked burying his chin against his chest.

"And yet you were gonna plaster the wall with all that... with everything you _can _and _will _be, last night... Don't you get it Sam? Even now? After EVERYTHING we've been through?" Dean asked leaning forward in his chair, knee to knee with his little brother. "We're all we've got... and hokey as hell that it sounds, there's nothing we can't handle, long as we walk the road together."

"I've tried so hard Dean... no... that's a lie..." he shook his head while tears continued to drip. "I've _denied_ so hard..." he huffed a mirthless chuckle and shook his head to match his trembling breathing, "...everything... I'm so sorry..." he held his breath this time, dropping his forehead onto his clenched fists. He was a third faction in his own personal war, loyalty warred with regrets of the past creating scars no one could have predicted.

"Sam... look at me..." Dean urged, his voice thick and heavy though he smiled faintly as his little brother shook his head, his chin to his chest. _So it's back to that is it Sam? I know you better than you do little brother,_ he grinned reaching out, twining his fingers into his hair and lifting his head up so they were eye to eye, "Listen to me closely, I'm only gonna say it once, hell I might even deny I ever said it at all...but... you're exactly the man you should be, s'all you need to be, it's all _I_ need from you... well that and nice juicy steak once in a while is a good thing...and maybe if_ you_ did the laundry once in a while...and y'know it wouldn't hurt if you hustled a game once in a while too y'know?..." he grinned.

Sam chuckled daring to meet his brother's eyes, his shame and self reproach sliding at last, from his back with absolution from the only person in his life whose opinion of him ever really mattered. Finally that bright contagious smile Dean knew was in there somewhere, lit his brother up, all the way to the eyes and he could let himself begin to feel it was going to be alright, Sam was going to be alright.

"... so I've been thinking about the Igigi and them eating the demons..." Sam drew his hand down his face, wiping away the tracks of his tears with a grateful megawatt smile that would've had John and Mary both grinning from ear to ear, possibly contemplating how rich they would be if they could bottle and sell it, "... what if they're just a different..." he started as Dean reached behind the computer and tossed a small plastic bag into his lap. "What's this?"

"Leave the wolf out the door for the night Sammy... we'll think about war in the morning deal?" he smiled leaning back as Sam pulled from the bag 3 packs of microwave popcorn and a five dollar DVD of the Original version of The Blob.

"Dude! COOL!" Sam grinned hugely tearing into the cellophane wrapping around the movie while Dean started the popcorn going and pulled a six pack from the fridge.

In just a few minutes the brothers Winchester were leaning against a stack of pillows and blankets folded against the wall while they sat side by side on the bed, their bare feet dangling over the side and tossing the odd kernel of popcorn at each other.

"Dude, that was so totally a little plastic Polly Pocket or something!" Dean pointed at the screen.

"So what? Dean... it's not about the people! Look at that thing! It's about The Blob!" Sam tossed some corn at him, then stopped, "...and how the hell do YOU know what a Polly Pocket is?"

Dean's eyes grew wide as he slid his gaze out the corner of his eye to his baby brother, playing on the moment, "Nothing... not important..."

Sam played along, spocking his eyebrow and motioning to Dean who put his head back and dropped his jaw. Sam chucked a piece of corn expertly into Dean's mouth and laughed, "You got something you wanna tell me man?" he asked.

"I like cartoons..." Dean shrugged motioning to Sam who turned leaning back with his own 'goal' wide open.

Dean shot three rapid fire kernels into Sam's mouth and laughed as he snapped after them, reminding him of Shep's old dog Hannibal trying to bite away the horseflies in the summer heat.

"Cartoons AND Oprah? That's pretty eclectic... I'm impressed..." Sam nodded grinning.

"Yeah whatever... this is better than Svengoolie...any day..."

"Yeah it is," Sam grinned, shouldering him easily, "Thanks."

"I rock..." Dean smirked.

"Yeah y'do..." Sam nodded.

Dean grinned pegging him with some more popcorn.

--

please R&R

Thanks.

Sifi.


End file.
